Force of Nature
by Running Red Husky
Summary: You've seen people band together to stop a villain from taking over the world, but how many times have you seen people band together to MAKE a hero take over the world? Complicating matters is Elsa's own propensity to do things unintentionally and not even notice until much later. Cinematic moments, worthy opponents, social satire, character development. There is singing.
1. Chapter 1

01\. Friends In Need

The valley shuddered, sending a light barrage of rocks tumbling down the forgotten amphitheater's moonlit steps. A wizened stone troll wearing a cape of moss knelt and pressed the palm of his grey four-fingered hand against the ground. Others of his kind gathered around him, whispering reassurances and uncertainties to each other.

The troll elder closed his eyes in concentration, worry creasing his brow.

"What was that, Grand Pabbie?" one of the on-lookers asked.

"Find Kristoff at once, and tell him we need Queen Elsa's help. The fire below is in motion," the old troll said gravely. Immediately, dozens of trolls curled up into their round rock forms and rolled off in many directions in search of their adopted human kinsman.

"Will everything be all right?" a young troll anxiously asked.

"It should. Something like this happened many, many centuries ago, and one with the powers of winter came to our aid," Grand Pabbie said. "I am sure Elsa will assist us this time."

"But she's never been back to visit, not even when Princess Anna comes with Kristoff," the youngster said.

"She has been busy being queen, but I am confident she will find the time for us," Grand Pabbie said.

The valley shuddered again.

 **Author's Note - I know mainland Norway doesn't have a volcano; you know mainland Norway doesn't have a volcano. But in the movie, the Valley of the Living Rock certainly has some kind of geothermal activity going on. Just roll with it.**


	2. Chapter 2

02\. Element of Danger

Sven the reindeer eagerly trotted toward the Valley of the Living Rock and his troll family. The fact that his human family was bringing along a picnic basket only added to his excitement.

"We should arrive just a little after sunset, in less than half an hour," said Kristoff. "That should give you time to do your thing and get you presentable enough to return by mid-morning tomorrow."

"Do I really need to stay the night?" Elsa asked, sounding less than thrilled at the prospect.

Kristoff glanced over his shoulder at the Queen of Arendelle. She had just about immediately dropped everything to take on the volcano that created the valley's fumaroles, but was balking at spending an extended length of time with his adopted family. It stung him a little bit, if he was to be honest.

"Grand Pabbie said that the last time someone with magic like yours did this, it left him physically weak and magically exhausted. They had to nurse him for a couple of weeks. So they have a bed prepared for you, and they'll be ready with some healing magic if necessary. Grand Pabbie thinks you're stronger than the other ice-wielder was, so you'll probably recover more quickly. But if we travel back to town at night, we risk meeting wolves, which is not something I want to do if you're unconscious or woozy in the back of the sled," Kristoff explained.

"Besides, hanging out with the trolls is fun," said Anna. "Once you learn how to just roll with it."

"Yeah, there's singing and dancing and story-telling and games," Olaf chimed in.

"If doing this takes as much out of me as you're saying, I won't be able to participate in much of the fun," Elsa pointed out.

"But since you wouldn't want to anyway, it's no great loss for you," Anna riposted triumphantly. She was also a little hurt and irritated that her sister always had some excuse for not joining them on their trips to the trolls' home.

"Such is my lot in life: I do all the work while you get all the playtime," Elsa said with no trace of resentment.

"One of the perks of being the spare, O great Queen," Anna bantered.

"I hate to remind you of this, but you are now the heir. And considering that I'm about to traipse into a dangerously awake volcano in order to try to prevent an eruption that would devastate much of the country, greatness might be thrust upon you in short order," Elsa said light-heartedly.

Despite the Snow Queen's chipper tone, the mood of the converted sled's other occupants darkened. "You had to put it that way, didn't you!" said Olaf.

"We're here," said Kristoff somberly. "We have to go on foot a little way to meet some of the trolls, and then they'll lead you up to the fissure."

Kristoff unhitched Sven from the converted sled and helped Olaf up on to the reindeer's back. Anna grabbed and lit two lanterns and observed Elsa. For all that she was uneasy about meeting the trolls, she seemed remarkably calm about trying to cool off a volcano. It had been more than a year since her powers were revealed to the world, and she had been openly using them, most often with excellent control and usually in regard to public works, but perhaps it was just the old "conceal, don't feel, don't let it show" routine that she had perfected over the course of her childhood.

"Are you sure about this?" Anna asked.

"Well, not totally. I am a little worried about freezing the Earth's core and whatever repercussions that would bring," Elsa said. Anna couldn't tell if she was being serious or facetious.

"Oh, look, there's Grand Pabbie!" Olaf said, and Sven trotted faster.

Elsa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Anna knew t _hat_ was definitely the old "conceal, don't feel, don't let it show" routine. "Hey, they're looking forward to meeting you," Anna encouraged. "They won't bite you."

"But they might sing about me," Elsa said wryly.

"You'll get over the mortification. It's like a rite of passage," Kristoff said.

Just ahead on the barely discernable path, Grand Pabbie and four other trolls were waiting for the humans. The little snowman and the reindeer had already reached them. Olaf was chatting happily with the younger trolls, and Sven was receiving a nice scratch behind an ear, while Grand Pabbie took his impressions of the young woman who had answered his call.

Her pale skin and large sky-blue eyes and perpetually windswept platinum-blonde bangs suggested an unearthly origin. Her youth was made even more obvious since she wore no make-up on this particular outing. Her dress and cape flowed and shimmered as though made of the finest silk. Her bearing and motion attested to a royal upbringing.

And the invisible pulse of her magic was overwhelming. He understood how she could set off an eternal winter without even noticing. The power she had possessed as just a young girl was something special - and alarming. What he sensed from her now gave him much to mull over.

"Good evening, Kristoff and Anna," Grand Pabbie greeted, and the human couple smiled and bobbed their heads. "Welcome, Your Majesty."

In response, Queen Elsa curtsied deeply to the troll elder and spoke in a language that Anna did not recognize. Grand Pabbie gave her an appraising look before replying in the same tongue, while the other trolls grinned in surprise.

Kristoff stared at Elsa with his mouth hanging open. "You know Trollish?" he asked in amazement.

"Seemingly quite well," said Grand Pabbie, still studying the Snow Queen. "Her vocabulary is somewhat old-fashioned and formal, but her grammar is superb."

"My father wanted me to learn Stonespeak," Elsa said with a modest smile. "Whatever else anyone thinks about him, he spared no effort or expense on my academics."

"Why didn't I get to learn it, too?" Anna blurted.

"First, you weren't supposed to know about the trolls' existence. Second, you weren't exactly partial to lessons," Elsa said drolly.

"Hey, I like the fun subjects. I just don't do well with too much structure and stuffy lectures," Anna huffed. "I would have loved to learn Trollish."

"I'm sure the trolls would teach you," Elsa suggested, looking Grand Pabbie's way. He nodded.

"Oooh, I'm so excited!" Anna squealed.

"It's not what I'd call an easy language to learn," Kristoff warned.

"Hah! I take that as a challenge!" Anna said.

"OK, Feisty Pants," Kristoff laughed.

Grand Pabbie cleared his throat to signal a change of the subject, but made a mental note to ask Elsa what resources she had used to learn the language. "My friends here are Gneiss, Feldspar, Gabbro, and Mica," he introduced them, each one waving in turn. Elsa correlated the names to the colors of the crystal necklaces they wore. She had no idea how to tell them apart otherwise.

"Your Majesty, do you feel up to this?" Grand Pabbie asked solemnly. "What we are asking you to do involves a serious element of danger. If you need to enter the volcano and your powers should tire before you can lull it back to sleep, we probably won't be able to help you. Even if you succeed, it is likely to take a great toll on you."

"Sir, as I told you in your language, I am forever at your service for healing my sister. I will aid you in any way I can, no matter the risks," Elsa said firmly.

"We do not have any advice to give you about how to do this," Grand Pabbie admitted.

"Sir, my problem never was _using_ my magic. My problems were _containing_ it, not doing more than I intend to, and undoing the messes I made," Elsa said thoughtfully. "I like big projects."

Grand Pabbie blinked. "I would very much like to speak with you later."

"If all goes well, sir," Elsa said. "When this is done."

"The easiest approach to the fissure is this way," Grand Pabbie pointed to a trail that was even less discernable. Walking up a twisting, steep, non-maintained path with only lanterns for light seemed an unnecessary waste of time to Elsa.

"Where exactly is best place to enter the fissure, sir?" Elsa asked.

Grand Pabbie pointed to a spot on a ridge above them. "You do not need to call me 'sir,' Elsa."

"As you wish," she said. "Let's take the stairs." And with a slight toss of her head, two sets of ice stairs instantly materialized leading up to the place Grand Pabbie had indicated. One had tread risers optimal for a troll's step, the other for a human's.

"Sweet!" Kristoff exclaimed.

The trolls exchanged glances. Grand Pabbie's eyes were wide.

"For safety's sake, I think Olaf and Sven should stay down here," Elsa said. At the snowman's forlorn look, she added: "I'll bring you some rocks from inside the volcano."

"I'll keep them company," Mica said as the rest of the group started to climb the stairs.

"It's still so high up. Can't you make these move?" Anna joked.

"As you wish," Elsa said with a sly smile. And the stairs began to move.

"Whoa! This so neat!" Anna shouted. Kristoff gaped in wonder. Gneiss, Feldspar, and Gabbro were also enthusiastic, but Grand Pabbie looked uneasy.

"Impressive, but you might want to conserve your energy, Elsa," he advised.

"This is trivial, sir - I'm sorry, decorum is a force of habit," Elsa said.

"It is best to err on the side of caution," he countered.

"As you wish." And the stairs gently stopped moving.

"Aww. But at least we're more than halfway there," Anna said.

"It is here that you and Kristoff must wait," Grand Pabbie told her.

"But why? I want to watch," Anna said, confused.

"The heat and the fumes ahead will be too much for you," Gneiss explained.

"Elsa will be cooling things off - and won't the fumes get to her, too?" Anna really did not want to miss the action.

"I will create a downdraft. But if anything goes wrong, you need to be out of harm's way. You're the heir now," Elsa reminded.

"But you just said-" Anna started to argue.

"If my powers give out, or if I can't figure out how to do this, or if I panic and lose control of my magic, you need to be well away from me," Elsa said in her Queen Voice.

"Listen to your sister, Anna," Kristoff urged. He knew that Elsa really wanted to say: _"If anything_ _goes wrong, I don't want you to watch me die."_

"OK, OK, I'll just wait here and twiddle my thumbs while Elsa wrestles a volcano to mat. Probably nothing to see anyway," Anna pouted.

"Gabbro, please wait here with them," Grand Pabbie said, suspecting that Kristoff by himself might have a hard time making sure that Anna complied.

Gabbro nodded. "I can start teaching you a little bit of our language," he suggested.

"Meh," said Anna as she watched her sister ascend the stairs with the remainder of the trolls.

When they drew closer to the top of the ridge, she could see Elsa's downdraft, or rather the effects of the downdraft on the water vapor and other visible gases. And then their distant figures stopped when they reached what must have been the edge of the fissure. She sighed and sat down on the steps; Kristoff and Gabbro joined her. Just to drive home her disappointment, Anna began to twiddle her thumbs.

 **Author's Note - More like a question: In the movie, when the King is looking for the map to the trolls' valley, a page from a book is shown. It's written in a runic alphabet. Does anyone know what it says if it's in Old Norse or is canonically supposed to say if it's just gibberish?**


	3. Chapter 3

03\. Elsa Versus the Volcano

Elsa stared at the magma roiling below and considered her options. "I take it that you want me to alleviate the build-up of hot gases that is creating the eruptive pressure yet leave the rock molten so that your steam vents still work," Elsa said.

"If you can do such a thing, that would be best," Grand Pabbie said. "But please do not be over-confident or push yourself past your limits."

Elsa smiled placidly at him. "Full contact it is, then. That way I can gauge the temperature better and pinpoint my targets more precisely. If I try to blast it from up here, I might cool everything too much, and you'll end up with a plug of solid rock. Well, here goes."

And the first few coils of an unfinished ice spiral staircase appeared. It was attached to nothing, supported by nothing, unmelted by the ambient heat. Elsa took a short step over the abyss from the edge of the fissure to the top of the staircase, and began her descent into the fires of the earth. As she completed each turn, a new section of the spiral would come into existence below while the upper portions vanished. The trolls were flabbergasted.

"Most impressive," said Grand Pabbie. He knew now that her powers would not be drained by this, that calling the mountainside ice escalator "trivial" was no novice's boast, and that her concern about completely solidifying the lava was not mere bravado. He began to think back over his vast personal experience and knowledge of lore.

Elsa neared the magma, and she simply held her hand out, palm down. All churning ceased, the surface no more disturbed than the sea on a calm day. The Snow Queen stepped off the staircase and onto the magma, a hexagonal crust of rock cooling under her feet. She floated on it casually as the spiral staircase completely disappeared.

She couldn't resist dipping a finger in the lava, as though testing bath water. Another dark crust formed where she swirled her whole hand in a lazy figure eight. She cupped her hand and scooped up some molten rock, watching in wonder as the magma nearest her skin turned to solid rock, while the topmost bubbled off. This was fascinating and almost hypnotic.

On the rim, Grand Pabbie exaggeratedly gestured at her, trying to get her attention. As powerful as she clearly was, the sooner this was taken care of, the better. She ducked her head sheepishly once she noticed him and set to work.

Elsa began by tapping her heel against the hexagon, as though keeping time with music. She followed that by short leaps from her central raft, a new hexagon of crust forming each time her feet made contact with the magma. Once the first hexagon was surrounded by six others, creating a honeycomb pattern, she skipped and gamboled around on top of them to a rhythm only she could feel, adding little snaps of her wrists here, backwards thrusts of her elbows there, punctuated by sweeping motions with an outstretched arm.

"It looks like she's dancing," said Feldspar, watching with the other trolls on the edge of the fissure.

"But who is she dancing with?" asked Gneiss.

"There are dances for one," observed Grand Pabbie, with a small amused smile. "Though I do not think that Elsa would say that she is 'dancing' right now."

"We should invite her to the next Blue Moon party," Gneiss said.

"We shall see, we shall see," said Grand Pabbie circumspectly.

The performance below seemed to be coming to its end. Elsa bent down on one knee and delivered three gentle taps with her knuckles on the central hexagon. She looked satisfied, shrugged her shoulders, and the spiral staircase reappeared.

With an arpeggio of her fingers, a bag of ice-fabric materialized. She scooped up another handful of magma, waited for it to cool, and put some of the solidified chunks in the bag. On her way up the staircase, she willed it to hover closer to the inner wall of the volcano in order to break off small pieces of interesting-looking rocks; she put those in the bag as well.

Elsa looked back down as she neared the top. Without her physical contact to maintain it, the floating crust of her work platform was already returning to a molten state. She was pleased that she hadn't overdone it, and that the fumaroles in the trolls' valley would remain active.

"How do you feel, Elsa?" Grand Pabbie asked once she stepped off the stairs. Not a strand was out of place in her deliberately disheveled hair, and there was no sign of damage to her ice-dress and cape.

"I could do this all night. Are there any more volcanoes that need a treatment?" she replied with a pert smile.

Grand Pabbie blinked again. "No. This should suffice for a few thousand years."

"Then let's go tell everybody the good news!" said Feldspar with a laugh.

Elsa opted to move the stairs back to where Anna, Kristoff, and Gabbro were waiting. Grand Pabbie had to admit to himself that it was easier on his creaky joints than trudging down steps.

"So how did it go?" Anna asked, springing to her feet. "You don't look fatigued."

"I'm fine. The volcano is back to napping. We'll all live happily ever after," Elsa said nonchalantly.

"Yippee!" shouted Anna.

"She was dancing the whole time," added Gneiss admiringly.

Elsa gave the troll a sour look. "I was not."

"Could have fooled me," pitched in Feldspar.

"I knew it!" fumed Anna, waving a finger at her sister. "I knew you can dance, and I knew I'd miss seeing you do it!"

"I did not dance!" declared Elsa. Anna was patently unconvinced. "Grand Pabbie, would you please tell them I was not dancing?"

The troll elder had to swallow a laugh. "It was just the form your magic-working took. But it is very easy to mistake those movements for dancing, so please pardon their misinterpretation."

Anna would not drop the subject. "If you can flow like that when you're doing magic, you can do it at a party. I know you can. You're just being hardheaded and negative."

"Anna, it's not that easy," Elsa said between clenched teeth. The temperature dropped slightly.

Kristoff pretended to be very interested in Sven's harness. Grand Pabbie's brows lifted in concern. The younger trolls were completely oblivious to the discord.

"Now we can go have fun with the rest of the clan!" Gabbro said enthusiastically.

Fortunately, it seemed to defuse the strain between the royal siblings.

"Right!" Anna agreed. The thought of the contents of the picnic basket also helped to lift her out of the argumentative moment. "Get these stairs moving back down to where we left Olaf, Sven, and Mica!"

"I think there's a way to get down that you'll like better," Elsa said with a conciliatory smile. And a slide made of ice suddenly appeared, winding its way down to the base of the volcano.

 **Author's Note - Think Elsa's "dance" when she was creating the ice palace in the movie. Also, geology, particularly vulcanism, was not well understood back in our 1840s. In this story's universe, we have a blend of science being farther along and Elsa "just knowing" certain things that involve thermodynamics, meteorology, hydrology, and math**.


	4. Chapter 4

04\. It's All Downhill From Here

"Best magical big sister ever!" whooped Anna. She immediately got on, followed by Kristoff and then Elsa. The trolls opted to stick with the ice escalator. "Meet you at the bottom, Grand Pabbie."

With a little forward scoot, the humans were off. Anna shrieked with delight at every bend and bank; Kristoff let out a loud "Wooo!" at a stretch where the steepness increased. Elsa merely grinned, and concentrated on the safety of the two people ahead of her. As they entered the final turn, Elsa created a massive drift of fluffy snow to catch them when they shot out of the end of the half-cylinder.

Anna and Kristoff lay there in the snow, laughing and gasping.

"That looked like a lot of fun," said Olaf.

"Oh, it was! Elsa, you totally need to make one of those for the Harvest Festival," said Kristoff, finally getting up.

"Yes, yes, please!" implored Anna. "Everybody would love it. Especially with those moving ice-stairs to get to the top. People would pay money to do that!"

"I'll think about it," Elsa said with a chuckle. "We'd have to find the right spot for it." And with a brief wave of her hand, the slide, stairs, and snow pile vanished.

"Very impressive," Grand Pabbie quietly said.

Elsa arched one eyebrow and curtsied to him again, then turned to the little snowman.

"Here, Olaf," said Elsa as she held out the bag. "Look what I got you."

Olaf promptly emptied the contents on to the ground. "Whoa, these look like black glass," he said as he surveyed the rocks Elsa had brought for him.

"That's obsidian. It forms when lava cools very quickly. That's fresh from the magma pool," Elsa informed him. Everybody stared at the vitreous stones. Sven tried to lick them, but was shooed off by Olaf.

"And these are all covered with crystals. They're so colorful!" Olaf held them up closer to the lantern light to get a better view.

"Those are from the inner wall of the volcano. It was coated with mineral deposits. You can switch out your coal buttons for these on special occasions, if you want," Elsa suggested.

"Like party clothes?" asked Olaf.

"Yes. Or any time you want more color in your wardrobe, little guy." Elsa knew how much Olaf loved different hues.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" babbled Olaf, hugging the bag of rocks close. Everyone smiled at the snowman's joy.

They hiked back to where they left the sled, close to the entrance to the trolls' amphitheater. Kristoff lifted the picnic basket out, laughing as Sven wagged his short tail in hopes of a treat. "Yes, we brought lots of carrots for you, buddy," he assured his life-long friend.

He and the reindeer hurried into his childhood home, ready to greet his off-kilter extended family. Olaf, Feldspar, Gneiss, Gabbro, and Mica followed close behind. The night was still young, and there would be time for the trolls' usual comical escapades.

Elsa hung back, stalling by the sled. Anna looked at her expectantly, and Grand Pabbie motioned welcomingly with an open hand. Elsa smiled, but made no move toward the threshold.

"Well, I think I'll bid you a good night. If there's anything else I can ever do to be of service, Grand Pabbie, please do not hesitate to ask," Elsa said with warm sincerity.

"I thought we were going to stay the night," Anna said, the disappointment clear in her voice.

"You and Kristoff and Olaf and Sven can certainly stay, but since I held up better than we expected, I can return to the castle and get an earlier start in the morning than I had planned for."

"But how are you going to get back if we stay? We'll need Sven and the sled ourselves to travel back tomorrow."

"I'll call for Sleipnir."

"Ugh." Sleipnir was Elsa's latest unintentional creation. He was a snow-horse as fast and handsome as he was haughty and willful with everyone except Elsa. If Olaf was born of Elsa's big sister instinct, and Marshmallow was from her desire to be left alone, and the Snowgies were spawned by her mischievous and playful side, then Sleipnir definitely represented her arrogant and imperious streak. Only Elsa could ride him or lead him - and he could teleport to her instantly when she summoned him, from apparently any distance away. Fortunately, he seemed to be able to teleport only to Elsa's location. It was very weird.

"He's not _that_ bad."

"To you," Anna retorted. "You should eat something. The kitchen staff prepared a nice picnic dinner for us."

"I ate before we left."

"They packed us chocolate cake for dessert..."

"I'm still not hungry right now."

"I'm telling Kai and Gerda!"

"What are they going to do? Send me to bed without any supper?" Elsa said with mock trepidation.

"We'll think of something, just you wait," Anna answered. "Elsa, please stay for at least a while. The trolls have been waiting to meet you."

"The trolls have already met me."

"That was fourteen years or so ago!" Anna was not about to let her sister wiggle out of this.

"Time flies when you're having fun," Elsa said quietly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Anna snapped. "Elsa, they are Kristoff's family and you should meet them!"

"And I would very much like to talk with you, Your Majesty," Grand Pabbie reminded.

Elsa wrapped her arms around her abdomen and fought against her apprehension. "Sir, this place doesn't hold pleasant memories for me," she tried to explain.

"Then perhaps we should try to change that," he said gently.

"Just how exactly do you propose to 'change memories'?" Elsa asked warily.

Anna was surprised at her sister's overt distrust of the troll elder. While she had been initially dismayed to find out that her memories had been altered to remove instances of Elsa using her powers, she eventually accepted that it was a justifiable precaution to ensure that all of the magic was expelled from her head.

"By sharing new experiences filled with friendship, support, and mirth with you." He knew he needed to be very patient with the young Queen.

"Please, Elsa? This will be good for you. And I know how happy it will make Kristoff to feel that you're not avoiding his family," Anna pressed.

Elsa closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to dissipate her tension. It worked somewhat, but she could still imagine far too many ways for this visit to end badly. "Love will thaw," she prodded herself. "All right. If I can muddle through meeting with the council, the tourists, the researchers and philosophers, and the undiplomatic diplomats, I suppose this shouldn't be a problem."

"That's the spirit!" Anna laughed and strolled forward into the amphitheater. Elsa followed slowly with Grand Pabbie shepherding her from behind. Obviously, the distrust was somewhat mutual.


	5. Chapter 5

05\. Just Trolling

The trolls were already making merry with Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven, and boisterously greeted Anna and pulled her into a group hug. Elsa watched in silence, hoping it would be a while before they noticed her. Grand Pabbie, still trailing Elsa, loudly cleared his throat, and all eyes turned in her direction.

Their synchronized blinks were the only sound before a cascade of voices burst from the crowd.

"Elsa-"

"Welcome-"

"Your Majesty-"

"The bed is over this way-"

"Thank you, but I'm fine. No need for the bed," Elsa said with a small smile.

Blink, blink. The trolls rushed closer.

"Look at you! All grown up!" Bulda drew Elsa into a hug, but quickly released her grip as a startled look replaced her cheerful demeanor. "Oh, you're freezing, you poor dear! Fetch some moss blankets! Kristoff, do you have any wool blankets in the sled? Anna, we need to borrow your cloak-"

"No, no, please. No need. I'm the Snow Queen, remember?" Elsa tried to explain to the field of stone-skinned faces. "This is just the way I am."

"If you say so," said Bulda skeptically.

"Trust me, it doesn't bother me."

"Well, but how are you ever gonna land a man like our Kristoff being all cold like that?"

"It's not something I worry about," Elsa said evenly. The trolls surrounded her even closer, and she felt her powers pushing for release as her panic rose.

"Oh, no, here we go!" muttered Kristoff. Anna smirked in anticipation of what was about to unfold.

"Darling, it's like this-" Bulda began.

Elsa knew some type of catastrophe was imminent: either an uncontrolled outburst of her magic striking the trolls around her -two of whom just so happened to be Kristoff's adoptive mother and their most skilled healer of magical injuries- or a very, very, very embarrassing song interlude. Possibly both. She had no idea what her powers would do to a troll, and she never wanted to find out. She was also unsure if she could keep her temper in check during a musical number extolling the wonders of romantic love and listing all the things she needed to do differently or change about herself in order to attract a partner.

Fortunately, she still had enough presence of mind to see a solution to the problem and enough focus to direct her magic. Hoping that the trolls were as easily distractible as humans, particularly children, whenever she felt a throng was packed too tightly around her or the comments and questions were becoming too uncomfortable or irritating, she resorted to her magical stress relief regimen: creating ice sculptures and portraits.

She did at least one session a day, sometimes many more if her magic had been otherwise unused and its restless energy was building. The artworks were then put on display throughout the castle before being cycled out to a free open-air viewing gallery along the courtyard's perimeter and finally to the Royal Gift Shop. The profit from their sale went to the funds for Arendelle's public education and public health. It was a very popular program since it reduced the outright tax burden on the locals for vital services _and_ it decreased the likelihood of the Queen inadvertently dropping a glacier on the country.

Before Bulda could launch into the first verse, several dozen ice sculptures popped into existence on the amphitheater's steps. Murmuring amongst themselves, the trolls immediately abandoned the song and retreated from Elsa's personal space in order to inspect them. Elsa relaxed and quickly glanced toward her escape route and saw, much to her annoyance, that it was still blocked by the relentlessly enigmatic Grand Pabbie.

Upon seeing her look his way, he shuffled over to a cluster of sculptures and picked one up. Ambling past the bed they had prepared for her, he bent with effort to grab a moss blanket and stiffly proceeded to a position on the steps close to where Anna and Kristoff were unpacking the picnic basket. He draped the blanket over a step and gingerly sat down on it. He locked eyes once again with Elsa and invitingly patted the length of the blanket next to him.

Still rather less than willing to be there but knowing she could not politely take her leave until she had spoken with him, Elsa joined him. Her regally upright posture made eye contact between them somewhat difficult, so he gazed intently at the sculpture and ran his ancient fingers over it. It was of two human children and three troll children holding hands and dancing in a circle around a central grouping of crystals and mushrooms. The human children looked much like young Anna and Kristoff.

"The level of detail is astonishing. The fineness of the finish is exquisite. And I even like the subject matter."

"Thank you. They are gifts for your people to keep, if you so desire."

"We do." Grand Pabbie tilted his head up to look her in the face. "Do you have any questions for me?" encouraged Grand Pabbie.

"You told me that night that my power would only grow. Is that still so?" Elsa asked, suspecting the answer.

"Yes. It will always grow," Grand Pabbie confirmed.

"She's already pretty powerful," Anna cut in.

"It has been noticed," Grand Pabbie said dryly. He looked back at Elsa, waiting for her to say something more. She stared pensively at her clasped hands.

Elsa could hold a silence indefinitely. Anna didn't know if Grand Pabbie understood what he was up against, what kind of "monster" he had a hand in creating. While she had a fondness for the old troll and believed that he had meant no harm to her family, Anna felt that he needed to understand just how unhelpful his cryptic advice had been. She was also still mad about not being allowed to watch Elsa in the volcano, especially since she had danced. And now she was peeved that Elsa had found a way to preempt one of the trolls' infamous affectionate-yet-humiliating songs. Plus, Elsa and Grand Pabbie were the chief authority figures in her life and possessed the most natural dignity of anyone she knew. Watching the two of them make each other squirm would be such fun. So she turned to the other trolls near her as they examined the ice sculptures.

"Elsa also made a really neat slide to get down from the volcano. She does still have a playful side, even though she keeps it well hidden underneath the personality she developed during _nine years_ _without physical contact with another living thing_ ," Anna told them loudly enough for a few rows to hear. Gasps rippled through her audience.

"Is that true, Queen Elsa?" a troll child asked with genuine concern.

"Yes, I really did make a slide to get down from the volcano," Elsa replied smoothly, as ice slides, ice merry-go-rounds, ice playhouses, ice jungle gyms, and ice swing sets appeared throughout the amphitheater and nearby valley floor. The troll children, most of the troll adults, Olaf, and Sven immediately set off to explore the new amusements the Snow Queen had provided.

Anna blinked. Her sister's ability to divert attention was both laudable and frustrating.

"I didn't think your parents would be so cruel," Grand Pabbie said quietly.

"It was my idea," Elsa said matter-of-factly. "I am dangerous."

"Translation from Elsa-speak: 'I think I'm a monster because just about everyone involved in this mess helped me pack a lot of baggage for my guilt trip,' " Anna broke in.

Kristoff buried his face in his hands; this visit was going downhill fast.

"Anna, especially you should understand just how dangerous I am. And so should Grand Pabbie. Whenever I say it's not safe and isolate myself, it's not because I'm shutting you out or don't love you; it's because my control over my powers is not and was not perfect, and I really, really, really don't want to hurt anyone," Elsa said sternly.

Anna sighed. "I know, I know. I'm just trying to help you explain things to Grand Pabbie because you're too polite and private and timid and clueless to say some stuff that he should probably know," Anna lectured. "Anyway, when we combine that with Grand Pabbie's own bad habit of being vague and seeming to misunderstand his own hints, it's a disaster waiting to happen. _Again_. I'd like to avoid that this time, if we can."

Grand Pabbie gave Anna an inscrutable look, but took the initiative. "How have you been feeling, Elsa?"

"Better."

"Grand Pabbie, unless you push her, you are going to get fifty straight one word answers before she says a complete sentence that actually has information that means something," interrupted Anna in between bites of her sandwich.

Kristoff shot her a cautioning look. He understood now why the Snow Queen was reluctant to be here. Anna completely ignored him.

"I merely appreciate concise answers. I think Grand Pabbie does as well," Elsa said with a roll of her eyes. Anna completely ignored her, too.

"Before we went up the volcano, you mentioned the problems that you had with your magic. Do you still have them?" Grand Pabbie asked before Anna could further hijack his questioning.

"Well, I think my magic will always be more aptly described as 'cooperative' rather than 'obedient,' " Elsa mused. "But I can usually restrain it more easily than I used to, now that I have a good feeling about it again and it has regular outlets. I can clear away all of the cold and ice and snow I make, and sometimes even the effects of my cold and ice and snow have on the surroundings, like during the Great Thaw. Doing more than I intend is still a little bit of an issue, and I'm not sure if it's because my control is just that bad, or if my magic is somehow listening too much to my underlying thoughts and subconscious wishes, or if the magic has a mind of its own sometimes."

"What serious mishaps of intention have you had since the Thaw?" queried Grand Pabbie.

" 'Mishaps' might not be the right word for the Snowgies and Sleipnir-" Elsa began.

"When you were feverish, your sneezes came to life! And you didn't even notice it! That's a serious problem!" Kristoff interjected. After trying to wrangle that disorderly horde, he wanted to prevent future outbreaks.

"You sneezed and created snowmen like Olaf?" Grand Pabbie asked in amazement.

"Not exactly like Olaf. They are much smaller, and they don't have arms. They also don't seem to talk, but they do understand language somewhat," Elsa explained.

"And they get into much more trouble," Kristoff added.

"Has this ever happened before?" the old troll asked.

"No," said Elsa. "I never had a cold before or since, and any other time I've sneezed, nothing happened. Well, I have sneezed out snowflakes a few times when I've handled really dusty books, but no ambulatory, free-willed snowmen."

"Your magic may have had a 'cold,' in a manner of speaking," Grand Pabbie suggested.

"Magic can get 'sick'?" Elsa asked, stunned by the implications. Kristoff gulped.

"Yes, it's possible."

"Oh, dear."

"In my experience, it's an extreme rarity, so I don't believe there will be another occurrence soon," Grand Pabbie said.

"That's a relief," said Kristoff. "She would need to build another ice palace for them if that's going to happen every time she gets the sniffles."

"And what is Sleipnir?" asked Grand Pabbie.

"A snow-horse," said Anna. "A really surly, headstrong, and fast snow-horse. Who can show up out of nowhere if Elsa calls him. He's scary."

"He is not _that_ bad!" Elsa repeated. "I didn't mean to make him, and he doesn't always get along well with people and other animals, but he hasn't hurt anybody."

"He has an attitude problem only a mother could love," Anna teased. Elsa rolled her eyes again.

"How did you make him if you didn't intend to?" asked Grand Pabbie.

"I guess it was similar to what happened with Olaf. I thought I was just conjuring the shape of a horse made from snow while I was thinking and feeling other things during the process. And then suddenly the horse moved once it was formed," Elsa recounted.

"And what were you thinking and feeling?" Grand Pabbie coaxed.

"Probably that she wanted a horse to ride that she could handle," snickered Anna.

Elsa rolled her eyes _again_. "Among other things, yes, I was thinking that it would be nice to have a horse to ride that wasn't spooked by me," Elsa admitted with a sigh. Grand Pabbie squinted at her. Elsa sighed more deeply. "In general, animals are scared of me."

"They react to your fear of them; they aren't really scared of _you_ ," Anna insisted.

"In general, animals are scared of me," Elsa said again, ignoring Anna's statement. "None of our horses will let me touch them. The only times I've ever been on a horse have been with an experienced rider that the horse trusts at the reins, and even then it's been a struggle. Sven is the only animal so far who likes me. Maybe it's because he grew up in the presence of your magic, so he's used to whatever energy I give off. Or maybe he just doesn't mind that I'm cold."

"Very intriguing," Grand Pabbie said, and Elsa winced at his probing look. "Anything else?"

Elsa fidgeted with her hands, twisting and rubbing them. Anna had a good idea what Elsa was thinking. "I can tell him for you if it's too much..." she offered.

"The memorial stones," Elsa said barely above a whisper. "I cracked our parents' cenotaph markers. I swear I did _not_ mean to do it." She crossed her arms over her chest, looking decidedly nothing like a reigning queen.

"Hey, it's all right. I told you I believe you. I do, I really do," Anna soothed. "They're just stones, anyway." Grand Pabbie looked at her quizzically, clearly interested in more of the story.

"Last year, Elsa waited for the first natural blizzard of the season so that she could finally go pay her respects without disrupting people's lives or the real weather," Anna continued. "Which shows just how responsible and aware she is, by the way. While she made it a little bit colder and made it snow a little bit harder-"

"I made it so icy and cold that granite boulders broke before I noticed that my powers were out of control," Elsa said sharply. "Hardly responsible and aware."

"They're just a little bit cracked, no pieces fell off. You reined it in as soon as you saw what was happening," consoled Anna.

"It shouldn't have happened in the first place!" Elsa got up and started to pace, tracing a path of frost. The trolls' attention shifted back to her, the playground equipment and sculptures forgotten for the moment. Olaf and Sven looked at each other helplessly.

"Be fair to yourself," said Kristoff. "You were mourning your parents. You need to let yourself feel deeply sometimes-"

"There's just the slight problem that my powers respond to my emotions," Elsa cut him off. She noticed the frost, and waved it out of existence. "I have to consider the consequences. Like freezing people to death or creating life."

Anna and Kristoff had no immediate reply to that. Grand Pabbie, all but ignored by the human visitors, watched them intently.

"Slip-ups are bad, and it's worse if I don't even notice right away," Elsa told them. "I must always be mindful of what I feel and how strongly I feel it, so that I can stifle my magic or guide it to do something different if its natural inclination will be dangerous or destructive. I know my control can never be absolutely perfect, but I need to work on reducing unpredictable and unintended large-scale results. For everybody's sake."

Anna and Kristoff looked downcast. The trolls were also very subdued.

"Beyond impressive," said Grand Pabbie. "This insight and level of commitment has been hard-won. You are wise beyond your years, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, but I know I'm not always going to live up to that standard," Elsa said dryly but not without a certain amount of embarrassed delight at his praise.

"And that scares you," Grand Pabbie perceived.

"Of course it does. What I am capable of intentionally is frightening enough. What I am capable of if I lose control of my magic during a panic attack or if I lose track of myself because of some other strong emotion..." Elsa's voice trailed off. "I realize now that being afraid, and being afraid of being afraid and on down the line, traps me in a very vicious cycle, even when I have a genuine reason to be afraid. So I know to be very careful.

"Another tricky and daunting thing for me is trying to think through all the ramifications of deliberately using my magic beforehand. So I try not to interfere with the real weather and other natural occurrences unless the situation is extremely important and there's no other way. I only quieted the volcano because so many lives and livelihoods were at stake, but there's still the worry that I somehow did more harm than good in the long term."

"I swear, Elsa, you can find anything to feel worried and guilty about," Anna chided. "You just saved Arendelle, not that anyone is ever going to know about it, and you're thinking up ways for it to go wrong."

"Actually, Anna, long-term aftereffects and chain reactions are of profound importance for magical beings, especially ones of the scope and magnitude of your sister," Grand Pabbie corrected. "It is -once again- impressive that she already understands this and accepts the responsibility. Not all magicals are that judicious and good-hearted."

"Taking all the likely far-reaching outcomes of a course of action into account was part of my training to be Queen," Elsa said with a touch of pride. "There's more to governing a country than saying 'Raise taxes!', 'Lower taxes!' and 'Off with his head!' "

"It is good to see that your extra burden has been of some help," Grand Pabbie said.

"It still would have been so much easier if my powers had come with an instruction manual," Elsa admitted with a sigh.

"Or if someone had been more clear with his advice and remedies," Anna said with more than a touch of sarcasm. "Or at least told us he was speaking in riddles."

"Anna!" Kristoff scolded. For all that Elsa had been opposed to visiting, Anna was being the more prickly one. Maybe it would be better to leave Anna at home the next time Grand Pabbie wanted to meet with the Queen.

"It's all right, Kristoff," said Grand Pabbie. "I do bear some of the blame for what Elsa and Anna have been through. I apologize."

"There is no need to, sir," said Elsa. "I am sure your powers have limitations just as mine do."

"Nonetheless, I still am sorry, Your Majesty," the old troll replied earnestly. "If you will allow it, I would like to do what I can to make amends. I will be as straightforward with my diagnosis as my magic permits me to be."


	6. Chapter 6

06\. What Could Go Wrong?

The troll clan had gathered around, waiting for Elsa's answer.

The Snow Queen looked at the troll elder, and then at Anna and Kristoff. In her mind, the more oracular pronouncements from Grand Pabbie would always be tinged with risk, and she wasn't certain she wanted Anna and Kristoff to hear his assessment of what was wrong with her. On the other hand, she already knew that understanding Grand Pabbie's choice of words would probably require contemplation, so there was no danger of jumping to some obvious yet incorrect conclusion. And it was still somewhat difficult for her to talk about herself with other people, with her sister especially. Perhaps this could explain her internal world to Anna better than Elsa herself could.

"If you truly wish to, sir, you may, but you are under no obligation to," Elsa said, looking him in the eyes.

Grand Pabbie held her gaze. "Elsa, you are still discovering how much to feel is safe for you, and many times the process is an unsettling and confusing one for you, and it is often easier to suppress an emotion than to feel it and still keep your power in check. But you need to learn how to embrace your emotions -all of them, the negative ones as well as the positive- while keeping control of your magic. I regret that I cannot give you any suggestions about how to do this, but you must figure this out, for otherwise you _will_ lose control of your power as it grows, and I do not need to tell you how dangerous that would be. You will make mistakes in the attempt, and you have reason to be afraid of making those mistakes. However, as great as the peril is at your current strength, it is nothing compared of what lies ahead if you don't."

Elsa took this information stoically, almost as if she had been expecting to hear something like it. Not a patch of frost, not a flake of snow, not the slightest dip in the temperature. Again, Anna couldn't tell if this was the old "conceal, don't feel, don't let it show" routine or if this was a good sign.

"Thank you, sir," Elsa said softly. "I will try my best."

"These incidents of doing more than you intend are more puzzling, especially your descriptions of how Olaf, the Snowgies, and Sleipnir came to be," Grand Pabbie continued. "It could be that sometimes you are still frightened deep down about using your power, and when that happens your control slips.

"However, your magic and your bond with it are amazingly strong, especially since humans are not naturally magical and you spent thirteen years trying not to use it. Therefore, it could also be that your magic is so much a part of you that it can feel your submerged desires.

"Magic that truly has a will of its own is surpassingly rare, and has thus far always occurred only in those who have been cursed. And even if that were the case, it would be unheard of for you to have your present level of command over it. But, since this is magic, anything is within the realm of possibility.

"I wish I could give a more definite answer, but the surge of your magic makes you very difficult for me to read without touching you."

Elsa remembered back to the night of the accident. The old troll had asked if she had been born with her powers or cursed, and he had grasped her wrist like a doctor measuring a pulse rate. She had felt a tingle, something brushing up against her own turbulent inner storm. That must have been Grand Pabbie "reading" her then.

"I should point out that I'm not the touchy-feely type," Elsa said.

"That is why I'm asking for your consent this time," Grand Pabbie offered.

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with this," Elsa said hesitantly.

"Oh, come on, Elsa," Anna butted in. "What could you be worried about? You just touched the inside of a volcano, for crying out loud."

"There's a big difference. A volcano isn't alive," Elsa said.

"But this would help you understand why your magic sometimes does things that you don't mean to do. Or that you think that you don't mean to do," Anna cajoled. If they were going to wager, she would bet her money on the second option Grand Pabbie mentioned.

"Grand Pabbie has strong healing magic," Kristoff added.

"Even he couldn't heal Anna's heart when I struck it," Elsa argued.

Kristoff felt a slight sinking sensation. It was very difficult to debate with someone who had been raised from birth to be a queen.

"But he knew _how_ it could be healed," Anna said. "Kind of."

"Not exactly reassuring, if you ask me," Elsa rejoined.

"Elsa, it's not like he's sneaking up on you. Just do this!" Anna demanded.

The troll elder held out his hand. Elsa made no move to take it. "I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.

"You cannot hurt me, child," he said gently.

"I just quenched a miles-deep column of molten rock that was ready to erupt. And I've cracked solid rock, crumbled mortar, and shattered and twisted metal. Unless you are completely impervious to the cold, I can most definitely hurt you," Elsa warned.

"You _will not_ hurt me, child," he said even more gently.

"The reason why we're talking about doing this in the first place is because I still do things unintentionally. It's foolish and dangerous to believe that anyone could possibly have perfect control of this storm inside of me."

"Believe in yourself."

"I can't."

"You can. You _do_."

"I don't even know who I am," Elsa pleaded. "I spent thirteen years being the good girl I always had to be. I have no idea if I am really 'good' or if this is just an act, a conditioned response."

"Trust yourself."

"How can I? When I was attacked in the ice palace, thirteen years of being afraid of hurting anybody went out the window just like that - and so did one of the attackers, almost. Even after I had already disarmed him." The temperature started to drop.

"Remember what I said about embracing your emotions."

"I don't think now is the best time to start practicing."

"Then calm yourself. You know how to do that," Grand Pabbie recommended. The temperature returned to normal. "Nicely done. Just remain calm and let me take your hand. You don't need to do anything else."

Elsa took several deep breaths, and held out her hand. Grand Pabbie delicately folded his hand around her wrist. Just as before, she felt a tingling sensation.

Then she felt the shock, like the kind received after shuffling stocking feet over plush carpet and then touching a metal doorknob - only much more so. Elsa was thrown back by the force, stumbling and almost falling before bracing herself with a hand against one of the amphitheater's steps. Frost rapidly spread out from her hand, covering everything in almost no time, and the alarmed trolls tried to jump out of the way.

"Owww! What was that for?" Elsa yelped accusingly as she stood up straight and turned to look at Grand Pabbie.

She immediately saw that the old troll had apparently gotten the worse end of whatever had happened. He was prone on the ground, seemingly unconscious.

"Grand Pabbie!" Elsa cried out. She knelt next to him, her hands hovering uncertainly over his shoulders before she folded her arms across her midsection, tucking each hand under the opposite elbow. It was one of her "safety is engaged" positions. A thick curtain of snow began to swirl around her. "What have I done? Somebody please help him!"

The other trolls looked at each other in bewilderment and disbelief. Kristoff and Anna rushed in, slipping and skidding over the frost, fighting against the spiraling wind of the Snow Queen's distress.

"Elsa, stop fueling the fire!" Anna yelled. Everyone who was awake looked at her through the blizzard. The trolls, Kristoff, and Elsa blinked in unison. "OK, so I am really bad with metaphors! But you know what I mean!"

Elsa did know what her sister meant. Panic was not an option right now. She closed her eyes and reached into the core of her love and tranquility. The snowstorm stopped, the frost receded. Anna gave Elsa a heartening smile.

Meanwhile, Kristoff had turned Grand Pabbie over. "He's breathing. I don't see any signs of injuries," he said, trying not to sound frantic.

Bulda made her way over to her father and adopted son. "Maybe a restoration crystal would help," she said.

To everyone's relief, Grand Pabbie stirred and opened his eyes with a soft groan. Bulda cradled him in her lap. The old troll blinked a few times before sitting up.

"Are you all right?" Kristoff asked. "What happened?"

"It was quite a jolt, but I will be fine," he said, and they all breathed easy. "It seems that Elsa's magic repelled mine."

"I am so sorry," Elsa gasped. "I swear I didn't do anything. I didn't mean to!" The temperature started to drop again.

"Control, Elsa, control!" Anna prompted. The temperature returned to normal.

"It's all right, Elsa," Grand Pabbie said, rising to his feet. "It was just momentary. No real harm was done. But I could not read your magic."

"Why did this happen?" asked Bulda, still concerned for her father.

"It could be that Elsa was still too agitated and her magic was thrashing about. Or that even though she was calm, she was subconsciously opposed to the process and her magic took action on her behalf. Or that the magic itself does not like to be touched anymore," Grand Pabbie proposed.

"So we're sort of stuck at the beginning," Anna pointed out.

"Unfortunately, yes," Grand Pabbie said heavily. "Perhaps if we-"

"I am so sorry, Grand Pabbie," Elsa spoke over him. "But I think I should go. Maybe we can resolve this some other time, but it's clearly not safe right now. I thank you, sir, for your advice and your attempt. If you ever need my help with anything, just let me know. Please enjoy yourselves as much as you can for the rest of the night."

She curtsied once more to the old troll and strode toward the amphitheater's opening.

"But what if you run into wolves?" Anna asked weakly. She knew the Queen's mind was made up.

"I promise I won't be _too_ rough on them," Elsa said with a humorless smile.

And suddenly she was bathed in a white-blue light. Something was forming in front of her and behind her. First came the ears, followed by the rest of the head and the arch of the neck with a flowing mane to the withers. The already-saddled back came into being directly beneath her; she was automatically astride it and lifted off the ground as the legs coalesced to their full, awesome length. Finally the hooves solidified and the tail streamed out.


	7. Chapter 7

07\. PollyAnna

All the trolls gaped in astonishment. The huge snow-horse stared down at them with unconcealed contempt. This was obviously Sleipnir.

Even though Anna and Kristoff were used to seeing his teleportation arrival, there was still something disconcerting about it. As a matter of fact, Anna had been unnerved by the snow-horse from the moment of his unexpected creation. And perhaps she felt a little bit guilty about possibly pushing her sister to inadvertently make him.

While Elsa had made great time in learning to do many of the everyday things, like riding a bicycle, that she had missed out on during her years of isolation, her attempts to ride a horse had proved to be futile. The horses were simply too spooked in her presence. No amount of patient, quiet introductions, no quantity of treats made a difference, even with the most easy-going and well-trained ones. They had also tried using Sven as a role model to demonstrate to the other animals that Elsa was not a threat, but to no avail.

Anna was more frustrated by this than Elsa was. It limited their outings together to places that could be reached on foot in much less than half a day or that were serviced by a road decent enough for a bicycle to manage, or it required a carriage and all the associated personnel and other encumbrances - no chance of slipping away for a longer adventure off the beaten path without the castle staff knowing. And even with a carriage or wagon, the horses were still on the nervous and fitful side.

One day, after another fruitless attempt to gain the trust of any of the mounts, Anna made a few comments that may have been hurtful and unfair. Something along the lines of how incompetent the oh-so graceful and powerful Queen must be to fail to do something that clumsy and silly Anna (not to mention almost everyone else, from high-born to commoner) had mastered at an early age, or perhaps Elsa was just feigning inability in order to avoid doing things that Anna wanted to do with her.

With the stable staff looking on, Elsa had refused to respond and withdrew. She kept to her bedroom and office, speaking only when absolutely necessary and declining all food, for two days; Anna's awkward attempts at apologizing went unacknowledged.

On the third day, when Anna found her sister leaning on the paddock fence, she expressed her remorse again, and this time Elsa gave a slight nod of her head and a soft sigh. The Snow Queen had stared off into the distance and then moved her hands with a flourish, a gesture somewhere between conducting music and sculpting clay. And a magnificent snow-horse was formed: tall and athletically muscular, perfect conformation for a Thoroughbred, the body was white with just the faintest touch of blue while the hooves, mane, and tail were pure white. Once the glow of her magic had faded, his eyes opened -eyes that were the same blue as Elsa's- and he trotted over to his very surprised maker with an attentive and inquisitive expression.

And then he saw Anna and sneered. Once the snow-horse was sure Anna knew where she stood in his assessment, he ignored her and returned to Elsa, who stroked his head and whispered a tender greeting to him. From that moment forth, Sleipnir's affection and compliance were reserved solely for Elsa. The only other living things he found worthy of a respectful tolerance were Sven, Olaf, Marshmallow, and the Snowgies.

Anna was certain even then that there was definitely something from Elsa's subconscious involved, especially once they discovered Sleipnir's ability to teleport to Elsa. It was a marvelous feature, particularly from Elsa's point of view, but it was also kind of creepy.

Right now, Sleipnir had no interest in anything other than his rider. With astounding agility, he turned and navigated the amphitheater's opening before racing off into the night.

All of the trolls except Grand Pabbie and Bulda dispersed throughout the amphitheater, some of them talking amongst themselves, others returning to the ice playground equipment and sculptures. Olaf retrieved some carrots from the picnic basket and began feeding them to Sven.

"That did not go as well as it could have," said Anna.

"But not as badly as it could have," said Kristoff. "Are you sure you're all right, Grand Pabbie?"

"Physically, yes. But I admit that I am troubled," said the old troll. "I need to think long and deeply about all of tonight's events. There is strange and strong magic at work here."

"Will Elsa be OK?" asked Anna, wondering if they should go after her sister, not that they had any chance of catching up with Sleipnir.

"For the time being. Listen to me, Anna," Grand Pabbie said with great gravity. "Do not push your sister too much, even if you mean well by it. She has become incredibly powerful. Elsa is easily the strongest of any magical human in my experience; she rivals the very greatest naturally magical beings of old. And her might will only grow. Her innocence also ended much too soon and much too traumatically. That she never surrendered to the darkness is a testament to her spirit and a sign of hope for the future, but such a battle always leaves its marks. She is on the right path, though. Let her take things at her own pace, for your sake even more than hers."

Kristoff felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. Incredibly powerful magical humans and caring-but-impulsive siblings had already proved to be a disastrous combination. He was tempted to carve Grand Pabbie's warning in stone and place it somewhere prominent in Anna's bedroom. He also resolved to tell Elsa about this admonition as soon as he had the chance.

"But sometimes she needs a push," Anna insisted. "She gets so wrapped up in work."

"There is a difference between getting Elsa to take a break and harassing her to do things she doesn't want or isn't ready to do," Kristoff explained.

"OK, OK, I get it. Don't throw snowballs at the person who can turn you into an ice statue," Anna said flippantly. "Her control is nowhere near as bad as she says it is. She puts up with all kinds of irritation without so much as a flurry. Sure, she had a few moments when her subconscious told her magic what to do, but it never did anything dangerous, and I'm pretty sure it never will. This is _Elsa_ we're talking about. The only times she has really hurt somebody are when she's scared that somebody is going to get hurt."

"And you've been that somebody both times, Feisty Pants!" Kristoff exclaimed.

"Then I know what I'm talking about, don't I? Look, if _I'm_ not worried about Elsa's control, at least right now, then nobody else should be either. And Grand Pabbie just told her she needs to embrace all of her emotions to learn better control. Who better to help get her to do that than me?"

"Grand Pabbie also said Elsa would make mistakes learning how to do that!" Kristoff knew his girlfriend could be very single-minded on certain subjects, and he was beginning to suspect that the "do not push" warning had planted a seed in Anna that would lead to the opposite result. And why wasn't Grand Pabbie saying anything now to make Anna understand? Kristoff looked over at his adoptive grandfather, but the old troll was silent and expressionless. Maybe he was still a little out of sorts from being shocked.

Anna did not like all this pessimism. "They will only be bad mistakes if she's afraid of making a bad mistake!" she persisted. "If Elsa is feeling positive, they will be serpentidious mistakes."

"You mean 'serendipitous!' " Kristoff edited.

"Whatever. Besides, I think Grand Pabbie took her whining tonight too seriously," Anna went on. "This is _Elsa_ we're talking about; she whines if she doesn't dot an _i_ perfectly. So she messed up on three things in more than a year. One of those times she was sick somehow or other, but still made snowmen that are harmless and cute. And another time it was just a few little cracks on stones that will get cracks over time anyway. And the third time she made a serpentidious ... sereptid ... oh, forget it - a really useful snow-horse, even if he has a rotten disposition.

"It's already late September, and she's only had two panic attacks this year. She knows how to seal herself off, and she can clear away what she does during them. I mean, I feel horrible for her while it's happening because it seems like it's agonizing, but she claims it doesn't physically hurt, and she lets us comfort her afterward. So it's not at all like the 'end of the world.'

"Elsa loves her magic again and has people who support her, and that makes all the difference. She can do anything if she puts her mind to it and gets the right encouragement. She just knocked out a volcano in a few minutes! You've seen how she's using her powers to upgrade the harbor, what she's done to improve the mountain roads and passes, and the stuff she does at the magic shows. She's great! Her problem isn't that she's dangerous and lacks control and is going to wipe out all life in the cosmos; it's that she can't see and really accept how great she is."

Anna gave everyone a "So there!" nod. Kristoff knew better than to say anything to the contrary after a "So there!" nod. But he desperately wanted to remind Anna that Grand Pabbie told Elsa to embrace even her negative emotions, which would include things like fear and rage. He would definitely try to bring it up later, when Anna was in a less preachy mood.

"What magic shows?" Grand Pabbie finally spoke up. Kristoff could not fathom the troll's disinterest in the rest of Anna's impassioned speech.

"Oh, Elsa gives a magic show every Saturday during tourist season. Olaf and Sven are in it, too, with short comedy skits," Anna said brightly. "We have less than a month left before the sea gets too stormy, so if you want to see one you'd better do it soon or you'll have to wait until next year. We can probably set up a hidden spot for you to watch from."

"What tourist season?" Grand Pabbie asked.

"Now that the word is out about Elsa's magical powers, a lot of people want to see for themselves. So they come from all over by the boatloads. It's been fantastic for our economy. And considering that a lot of Elsa's other policies already gave a big boost, our citizens are thrilled she's the Queen. We've had to build more inns and hotels, and some people rent out spare rooms in their homes. The Minister of Tourism said that we've had over three thousand non-diplomatic visitors to Arendelle this year."

"So people come from far away to see Elsa's magic ... and she performs for them?" Grand Pabbie asked with delighted amazement. From viewing and changing Anna's early childhood memories, he knew that Elsa was a natural-born entertainer, at least when she felt at ease in the company of someone. Although that inclination had been curbed by circumstances in the intervening years, it was evidently still there. This gave him even more to think about.

"Well, yeah," said Anna. "She didn't exactly want to at first, because she has more than enough to do being the Queen, but it's only an hour and a half show. Even though she will never admit it, she likes doing it. And the more she uses her magic in front of other people, the less scared she is of using it in front of other people, so the less of a chance there is of zapping somebody or freezing the world. Kristoff and I have _seen_ how good her control is under pressure with everybody watching."

Kristoff sighed and fished another carrot out of the basket and offered Sven the tip end before crunching thoughtfully on the rest. He and Elsa would need to be on guard. Fortunately, the Queen of Arendelle excelled at contingency planning.

A group of troll children chose this moment to ask him and Anna to push them on an ice swing set. Quite frankly, he was ready for something to lighten the mood before trying to get a little sleep. Anna seemed to be on the same wavelength. They smiled shyly at each other before helping the youngsters on to the swings. Sven joined in, using his antlers to push two trolls at a time.

Bulda and Olaf remained close to Grand Pabbie, who was ready for a serious meditation session. He waddled over to another of Elsa's ice sculptures, a snowflake. There were a few different (of course) snowflakes among the ones she made for the trolls, but this one seemed surprisingly simplistic compared with the others.

It looked like an equilateral triangle that had smaller equilateral triangles growing out of the middles of each of its sides. On the smaller equilateral triangles were yet smaller ones growing out of the middles of their sides. Then Grand Pabbie held it closer to get a better look at the details. His breath caught.

He conjured a viewing orb to magnify the sculpture beyond what his naked eyes could see. He selected one edge of the snowflake and zoomed in repeatedly. There was no end to the ever smaller triangles, no limit to the detail. He did this with the other five edges and got the same result, no matter what section he looked at or how much he magnified it.

"What is that, Pabbie?" asked Bulda. "It's beautiful. It looks like it goes on forever."

"I think it does," said Grand Pabbie, somewhat hoarse with awe. "Elsa made an infinitely detailed sculpture."

"Oh, she makes that one and other stuff like it all the time," Olaf said casually. "She calls them fractals. She's tried to explain them to us, but I don't understand equations. Or math. Only the nice professors and scientists seem to understand her a little bit when she talks about things like 'self-similarity' and 'expanding symmetry' and 'nowhere differentiable' and 'continuous process.' They say Elsa is a genius, but I think they're wrong because even though she's magical, she doesn't live in bottle."

"Olaf, sweetie, you're thinking of a genie. A genius is something else," said Bulda with a laugh.

"Yes," Grand Pabbie concurred. "Elsa is something else." He had _a_ _lot_ to think about.

 **Author's** **Note** - **The ice sculpture I'm trying to describe is, of course, the Koch snowflake. ( wiki/Koch_snowflake ).**

 **Also, Sleipnir should not look like a "cartoon" horse. Imagine him to look just like Secretariat, except white and slightly taller, and without the kind expression unless he's looking at Elsa.**


	8. Chapter 8

08\. Night Ride

Once Sleipnir and Elsa had cleared the amphitheater's entry way, the snow-horse was able to pick up the pace. The Snow Queen wanted to get far away from the valley as quickly as possible, and her mount was extremely willing to oblige. He settled into a gait that, while fast, was still comfortable and safe for Elsa as they followed the tree-lined trail.

"We don't need to stick to the path, Sleipnir," said Elsa with a grin. Leaving that valley behind made her feel better already, and the thrill of riding the fastest horse that ever existed helped her to push the bad ending of the visit out of her mind. Viewing some of Arendelle's justly-famous rugged natural beauty would be the perfect way to wind down on the way back to the castle.

Sleipnir shared his creator's frame of mind. Once the low-lying tree branches and other forest debris, not to mention possibly other travelers, were out of the way, he would be free to do what he was made -intentionally or not- to do: fly without wings. With her ability to generate direct routes for his enormous, quick, tireless stride, there was almost nowhere in Arendelle that they could not reach in less than an hour, despite the steep mountains and dense forests. He twitched his ears to signal his willingness.

"Get ready for a mountaintop ride!" Elsa exhorted, and a perfectly pitched ramp of ice grew out of nothing in front of them. Like the ice spiral staircase in the volcano, it floated in the air, and only the section of the slope in immediate use existed: As soon as Sleipnir's rear hooves pushed off, the ice disappeared beneath them; just before his front hooves touched down, the ice sprang into being. The rhythm of formation, annihilation, and hoof beats was flawlessly timed. The snow-horse had no doubt that Elsa could levitate him, should she ever desire it, although since he preferred his feet to touch something as he ran, he wasn't going to request it.

They reached the top of the mountain ridge, and Elsa connected the peaks with elegant ice bridges. She allowed longer spans of these to hold their shape, now that there was more room to work in and no risk of accidentally hitting another wayfarer. Sleipnir stretched out his long neck as he accelerated, and Elsa gathered herself into a tucked position on his back, her braid and ice cape billowing behind her. The Snow Queen's joy manifested itself as a wide stream of snow, training behind her like a long, diffuse cloak of glittering white layered on top of her blue ice cape.

A group of ice harvesters working by lantern light on a frozen mountain lake noticed a white-blue light illuminating one of the crestlines alongside them. It was getting brighter and approaching fast.

One of the harvesters, a young acquaintance of Kristoff, drew a sharp breath in terror. "A ghost!" he rasped.

An older man laughed. "No, Dag, my lad! It's Queen Elsa!" He pointed to the snow-horse and rider as they became close enough to make out as they galloped over ice viaducts that sprang into existence and disintegrated with sparkling glows.

All the men, though as tough and unsentimental as their working environment, felt reverence and wonder as they watched the white horse and pale rider leaving a snowy wake against the blue-black night sky surmounted by a fan of twinkling stars. This was a sight each one of them would treasure for the remainder of their lives. Dag's heart was no longer entirely his own, and he stared longingly well after the vision had sped out of view.

"We'll have to ask Kristoff to arrange a meeting for you, Dag!" the older man teased good-naturedly as the harvesters set back to their task.

"Oh, stow it, Einar," Dag said with an embarrassed grin. "A man can appreciate nature's miracles."

"That he can. So long as he also remembers he cannot tame them," Einar said. " 'Beautiful, powerful, dangerous, cold!' "

At that cue, the other harvesters struck up their old work song. Only the stars shone above the mountaintops for the rest of the night.

Elsa had never noticed the crew. She was again feeling one with the wind and sky, completely in harmony with her mount. They were taking a fairly straight course back to town, and it wasn't long before they reached the sheer cliffs of the fjord. Without the slightest hitch in his stride, Sleipnir leapt out over the drop-off, and a gently sloped ice ramp down to sea level met his hooves with precise timing.

As they neared the end of the ramp, the water ahead froze over, and Sleipnir made a surefooted hairpin turn back toward the settlement nestled around the rim of the fjord. Once again, Elsa's command of her magic was perfect; only the surface of the water directly underneath the snow-horse froze, and it returned to its liquid state as soon as they had passed. Whatever had happened when Grand Pabbie touched her was not affecting any other aspect of her control tonight.

They were nearly upon dry ground, and with an impressive jump, Sleipnir cleared some breakwater rubble and landed gingerly on a grassy patch, slowing to a walk in two steps. By design, they had arrived close to the Royal Stables, where Sleipnir generally stayed, even though he had no real reason to, other than to lord it over the stable staff and ordinary horses. Elsa dismounted and caressed his muzzle, removing his tack with a wave of her hand.

Together, the Snow Queen and the snow-horse approached the paddock. Elsa knew the stable doors were probably locked for the night and didn't want to wake the grooms, so she unlatched the gate to the paddock and left Sleipnir inside. He didn't need any of the care and feeding that normal horses required. Nor was _anyone_ going to steal him. The stablehands would let him in his stall when they saw him in the morning. She curled her hand closed and reopened it, materializing three ice cubes, and offered them to her steed. He took them tenderly. She stroked his cheek. "Good night, Sleipnir. I'll check on you tomorrow."

"Good night, Elsa," the snow-horse replied. His voice was surprisingly thin and soft, as though coming from far in the distance. He didn't often talk, and when he did, it was usually only when he and Elsa were by themselves. "Sleep well."

Sleep sounded like a very good idea right now. She reached over the fence, gave him a pat on the neck, and turned toward the castle. The glow of her magic had alerted the night guards that she had arrived back earlier than she had told them she planned to. The tall doors were already open for her, the uniformed men standing at stiff attention as entered. "Welcome back, Your Majesty," the chief of the night watch said.

"Thank you. Princess Anna and Ice Master Bjorgman will return sometime tomorrow morning as originally scheduled. Please tell Kai that I want to wake up at six o'clock. May the rest of the night be uneventful for you," Elsa told him as she strode in. The doors shut firmly behind her.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said with a brisk nod.

It was a relatively quick trip up the staircase to the royal family residence level, and a little farther down a hall to her bedroom, her prison, her sanctuary. It was a complicated and changeable relationship. Right now, Elsa and her bedroom were on good terms. She entered and closed the door, the sound was no longer as bleak as it once was. She did not lock it.

To get cleaned up, she blasted herself with a tight tornado of fine ice and powdery snow, scrubbing away the grit and grime from the day. She deposited the swirl in the tub, where she annihilated the frozen water and left the residue before rinsing it down the drain. While she could erase her own snow and ice from existence, she had no such power over any dirt and dust that might be mixed in.

A slight wave of her hand altered her ice-dress and cape to an ice nightgown, and she unceremoniously plopped herself on her bed, not bothering to turn down the covers. It was not quite midnight; the start of Monday's business was still well away. Within a few minutes, the Queen of Arendelle was fast asleep.

 **Author's Note - Think of something like the first flying bicycle scene from "E.T." except without the moon (because Elsa, Sleipnir, and Elsa's ice constructions** **are light-colored and/or give off a glow). The soundtrack is something like "Evergreen" by Two Steps From Hell.**


	9. Chapter 9

09\. Monday, Monday

As requested by the night watch, Kai knocked on Queen Elsa's door a few minutes before six o'clock in the morning. The castle's long-time overseer was not entirely surprised that Her Majesty had returned in the night. While he did not doubt that this "sudden urgent matter" that had required her presence was truly important, he also knew that the next few weeks were an extremely busy time. Elsa loved big projects.

The steel reinforcements for the harbor's improvements were scheduled for testing sometime this week, and hopefully it would not run afoul of the preparations for the Harvest Festival that began on Friday at midday. There was also a council meeting on Wednesday.

And then there were the other meetings.

Her Majesty's reforms to Arendelle's public education system and founding of a public health system were going more or less smoothly, and the country's new university had just begun its first-ever classes. But there were still some positions to fill around the small country and problems to work out; people with backgrounds in education, medicine, sciences and technology, management, and skilled trades had been arriving throughout the past week, trying to beat the stormy weather that all but shut down sea travel between late autumn and early spring. The Queen needed to meet with most of these newcomers soon.

Also in the queue were the other learned men and women who came to try to study and debate about the Snow Queen's magical powers. And the more mundane tourists, who just wanted to see it for themselves. Her Majesty could easily spend most of her waking hours each day indulging the curiosity of the world, but since she took her administrative duties very seriously, Kai and the other castle staff were careful in scheduling her time with the journalists, researchers, theologians, and sightseers.

It seemed there was no end to the diplomatic and trade petitions. The whole world wanted a peace treaty with Arendelle, for obvious reasons. Many of the major players in global and local politics had wanted to set up embassies in what was formerly deemed a prosperous-enough but sleepy backwater country. Ostensibly, this was to acknowledge Arendelle's emergence from thirteen years of secrecy to being a leader in economic policies and enlightened engineering of the future, but the reality was that everybody wanted to keep an eye on the young Queen. Elsa herself understood their concerns and agreed to the development of an "embassy row" within Arendelle as a gesture of her non-aggressive intentions. And as word of the Queen of Arendelle's fairness and acumen spread, she had become sought after as an arbitrator of foreign disputes.

But Her Majesty's real magnum opus at the moment was the drafting of a constitution. The Queen, the council, and advocates for the people were working on the unequivocal language that would give the country a modern, clear set of laws, and establish exactly what the rights, responsibilities, entitlements, and compromises of the citizens and government should be. Needless to say, the discussions could get long and heated.

When combined with the open courts held regularly on the first and sometimes third Thursday of each month, it meant that most of Elsa's days required strict time management. Luckily for everyone, the Queen possessed an inordinate amount of self-discipline and commitment.

Therefore, Kai was unfazed that, in response to his knock, the bedroom door opened and Elsa stepped out into the hall, ready for the day to begin. He supposed it helped that she could get dressed in an instant, with a mere wave of her hand and a thought. Which was not to say he completely approved of her dresses and bare legs, but neither was he going to be the one to tell such a powerful sorceress what she could or could not wear. His sense of self-preservation trumped his sense of propriety.

One of the things he and Gerda and the few other long-serving castle employees had dared to demand of Elsa after the Great Thaw was that her meals would be served only in the dining room, with just a few exceptions made for extenuating circumstances. She had eaten alone in her bedroom for far too long, and the staff who could remember the time and the little girl before the gates were shut saw no reason now for the isolation to continue. To their great relief, the Queen had acceded to their stipulation instead of firing them all or turning them into frozen newts.

He escorted her to the family dining room. She was silent, which was not unusual, and seemed rested. "Should we expect the Princess and Ice Master back for breakfast, Your Majesty?" he asked as he seated her at the table.

"Probably not before nine o'clock. So just keep to Princess Anna's normal schedule," Elsa said dryly, poking fun at her sister's habit of sleeping in. "And I don't know if they will eat anything before they leave."

"Very good, Your Majesty. We can arrange for you to meet with the ambassadors from Khentii and Daloa earlier than we scheduled," Kai informed her.

"I know this is wishful thinking, but shouldn't we be running out of countries by now?" Some of these places were so remote and obscure, even relative to Arendelle's own remoteness and obscurity, that she was surprised news of her magical powers had reached them in less than a year.

"Unfortunately not, Your Majesty. The Minister of Foreign Relations thinks we haven't seen even one third of them yet."

"I still think a public declaration of our neutrality would be easiest," Elsa said. As fascinating as some of these dignitaries were, the trouble and expense that many of them had in traveling to Arendelle and back was ridiculous. "That way, they all can simply assume I don't plan to drop a glacier on their countries unless they hear otherwise."

Elsa's breakfast arrived: A bowl of oatmeal with fresh cloudberries and a drizzle of honey; a plain two-egg omelet; a few slices of smoked salmon; and a nice cup of hot tea.

Kai bowed to her and withdrew to prepare her study to receive visitors and to usher over the Minister of Foreign Relations for a final briefing before the Queen met with the dignitaries. After that, she would meet with some magic researchers, a few of which were slated to take up longer-term positions within Arendelle's new education and health care structures. After _that_ , she would probably meet with the harbor master, marine engineers, and metal workers to test some new building materials. After _that_ , there would a state dinner and formal reception to greet all the new educators and medical workers and their families.

In between these appointments, the Queen would try to look over various expense reports, harvest yield projections, and trade figures - as well as eat lunch. Today might be a day that the staff relented and allowed Elsa to eat in her study or on the move.

Kai finished tidying the study and arranging the day's paperwork in a neat, prioritized stack on the desk. He lit a fire in the hearth; while the Snow Queen did not need it, her guests probably would appreciate it.

A chime sounded, indicating that someone expected had arrived at the castle. The portly handler knew it was Oddvar Rogalund, the Minister of Foreign Relations, here to discuss the finer points of the negotiations with the emissaries from Khentii and Daloa, whose ships had reached Arendelle late the previous week. That Her Majesty had nominated her former history and geography tutor for such a lofty position did not astonish the old hands among the staff, since Elsa had a good rapport with him, even if he and her other instructors had been ordered to keep their distance, literally.

He hurried down to the front parlor to collect Minister Rogalund; the Queen would have heard the chime as well and was undoubtedly making her way to her study. Monday had officially begun.

When Kai reached the parlor door, a guard opened it and announced: "The Foreign Minister is here to see Her Majesty, sir." As if nobody knew what this was all about.

"Thank you," said Kai as he walked in.

Rogalund greeted him with a smile. They weren't exactly close friends, but they were certainly familiar with each other and both had watched the princesses grow up. The Minister had been coming to the castle as a tutor since Elsa was ten years old.

"Is the Queen ready to be quizzed?" Rogalund asked as they left the room together. He found his current role to be quite stimulating, if intimidating. But since he had also taught Princess Anna, he was used to challenges.

"I believe so, although this has been shorter notice than Her Majesty would have liked," Kai said. With so many countries that had no prior association with Arendelle showing up unexpectedly and clamoring for treaties and trade opportunities and other favors, they had often found themselves trying to put something together in the eleventh hour. Fortunately, Queen Elsa was a quick learner and a gracious hostess; and a measured display of her magic could usually smooth over many cultural dissonances.

They reached the study door. Kai knocked smartly on it.

"Enter," the Queen commanded.

Kai opened the door, and announced: "The Foreign Minister is here to see you, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Kai," said Elsa, and she nodded to acknowledge both men's bows before Kai departed and closed the door behind him. "Please be seated, Minister Rogalund."

He did so, and Elsa regarded her teacher-turned-advisor. He was in his early fifties, with thinning brown hair, and a physique that was now close to flabby, but his brown eyes were lively and alert. The Minister of Foreign Relations likewise regarded his pupil-turned-magical-monarch. He was still not quite used to sitting so close to her, and was still somewhat amazed to find himself elevated to this station after the Queen's Great Purge following the Great Thaw.

"Quiz me," the Queen directed him, getting immediately to the point.

"Tell me about Daloa, Your Majesty," he said.

"Chocolate," Elsa said musically, not even trying to hide her smile. "Or rather cocoa beans. Tropical Africa. Located inland, but near the coast with navigable rivers servicing the vicinity. Also produces coffee, sugar, timber, cotton, and gold in limited quantities. Main languages are Kru, French, and Disnee. Main religions are Islam, Christianity, and traditional beliefs. Was not impacted by the slavers as badly as most of its neighbors, so they are still a viable market for some of our goods. France is very interested in the area, and I think the Daloans know it."

"Possible implications and complications?"

"If they fear the French are seeking political and economic influence or an outright land-grab, the Daloans may want a mutual defense treaty with us to act as a deterrent. Or want us to broker a hands-off agreement between them and France. I will, of course, suggest the second option."

"Very good, Your Majesty. You've done your homework, as always," Oddvar said with an approving smile. "And Khentii?"

"Extremely landlocked in east Asia. Mountainous, no navigable rivers that reach the ocean. Sparsely populated. Probably mineral deposits in the mountains, but there is little to no mining. Few crops. Nomadic herders, horses are very culturally significant. Main languages are Mongolian, Turkic, and Disnee. Main religions are shamanism and Buddhism. Has had very little contact with the rest of the world, but still has a certain prestige amongst the nearby countries. Birthplace of Chinggis Khaan, and reputed to hold his grave as well, in a region called the Great Taboo."

"Possible implications and complications?"

"Not much potential for trade, but it's an honor that they have gone well out of their way to establish diplomatic ties with us. If we swap out horses for boats, our histories have quite a bit in common: We're two long-isolated, steep-sided countries who conquered our respective neighborhoods centuries ago."

"Excellent, Your Majesty. But remember that the influence Khentii still has over its bordering countries could prove quite valuable, if this delegation brings back favorable reports and examples of trade goods. And our status within our local diplomatic community will rise if we can work out any kind of dealings with such a venerable and mysterious country."

"I will be at my dazzling best," Elsa deadpanned.

"You are dazzling even at your worst, Your Majesty, so there's not much to worry about," Rogalund reassured her. "You will meet with the Daloans first, then the Khentiians. Then we'll give them a little tour. The Visby embassy has invited both groups to an informal light luncheon afterward; I will also attend to make sure nothing untoward happens."

"Did you expect your job to involve so much eating when you accepted it?" Elsa teased.

"No, I did not, Your Majesty. But my wife is pleased that she doesn't need to cook as much. Now, if you will excuse me, I will get the Daloans ready to officially meet you in the ball room where you can appropriately awe them before you all return here for the more prosaic negotiations." He rose, bowed to her, and exited the study.

Elsa took a few breaths and reached into her tranquility. Finding the right balance between being Queen of Arendelle and Queen of Ice and Snow was a guessing game. Each dignitary had different reasons for seeking an audience and different expectations about her and different tolerances for magical displays. However, it was always best to start with a mild, modest approach, and build up to something more grand and imposing as the situation called for it - rather like her magic shows for the tourists.

She checked her ice-dress and cape, and ran her hand over her hair. There was a tap at the door; as a connoisseur of knocking, she knew it was Kai. She opened the door and stepped out into the hall. The handler was silent on the way to the ball room doors. He gave her a questioning look, and she affirmed her readiness with a nod. He opened the doors, walked in, and announced: "Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

 **Author's Note - This is an attempt to flesh out what Elsa actually does as queen. And not just any ordinary queen, but rather a ridiculously powerful magical queen in a world where magic is very uncommon. Just saying she does "paperwork" or "has meetings" completely overlooks some (to me) good plotlines and ways to maneuver our heroes into and out of trouble. Elsa would completely unhinge the politics of any Century in any "reality" that's close to our own.**


	10. Chapter 10

10\. Royal Audience

Elsa gave the people already in the ball room time to stand before striding through the doors. Her back was perfectly straight; the set of her shoulders suggested strength; the carriage of her head indicated confidence. She summoned a gentle cool breeze to waft her cape and conjured a patch of frost overlaid with enlarged, intricately detailed snowflakes to carpet her way to the throne. She paced by the bowing figures without glancing at any of them. Once at the carved wooden throne, she turned on her heel, gathered her cape over her left arm, and gracefully settled onto the purple and green cushion.

Finally, she looked at her guests as they rose from their bows. They were a handsome lot, tall and athletic, clean-shaven with close-cropped hair. The gold jewelry around their necks and wrists was simple but crafted well. Their clothes were flowing cotton, finely woven and brightly colored. She knew the cut of her own ice-dress and lack of hosiery would not cause any offense or misunderstandings, as sometimes had happened with the more uptight cultures.

"Your Majesty, I present to you Ambassador Cocody Jamang and his retinue," said Kai as the man standing next to Minister Rogalund bowed deeply again.

"Welcome to Arendelle, Your Excellency. Now are we well prepared to hear tidings from our esteemed brother, King Adjoua of Daloa," she addressed them in Disnee, an almost-too-good-to-be-true language that just about everyone throughout the world knew without being taught.

Ambassador Jamang stepped forward, dropped to one knee, and bowed his head. The other Daloans did the same where they stood. Elsa wasn't sure if this was simply one of their customs, or if she overdid her entrance.

"Great Queen, we thank you for receiving us," his voice was deep, and not at all tremulous, so Elsa felt safe to assume the kneeling and lack of eye contact was just a polite practice. "Lately, news of Your Majesty's coronation and the wondrous events that transpired did reach my King. My King sends his belated congratulations and well-wishes for Your Majesty's reign. My King desires that there should be everlasting peace between our nations and peoples, and hopes that the most noble and gentle Queen of Arendelle will grant him this humble request."

Aside from their postures, it was one of the less overwrought pleas to not drop a glacier on a country that Elsa had heard over the past year. And it seemed like they did not need any more convincing about her magic.

"You and your people may rise, Your Excellency," Elsa bade them; they did so. "We are of a similar mind to your worthy King, and resolve that henceforth the Kingdom of Arendelle shall reciprocate the amicable and peaceful actions of the Kingdom of Daloa. May both our lands flourish by it." Of course, there would be a much more precisely worded written document to sign later.

"Great Queen, my King Adjoua and my people sincerely thank you for this indulgence," said Jamang, looking her in the face for the first time. "We see that the reports of Your Majesty's good will and wisdom are true. Long may Queen Elsa of Arendelle live!"

"Long may Queen Elsa of Arendelle live!" echoed the rest of the Daloans. Elsa inclined her head subtly but graciously.

"It is our pleasure to accommodate the cordial proposal of our brave brother, your King, and his industrious people. We shall now attend to any other inquiries and announcements that Your Excellency may have," Elsa said, rather hoping that this would be the end of the official courtly audience so that she could get up off the less than comfortable throne and dispense with the use of the first person plural.

"Great Queen, can you make snowmen for us?" Jamang asked.

"What kind of snowmen does Your Excellency mean?" Elsa asked in turn. It was not the first time she had heard that question. Some people wanted to see the act of creating a living snowman; some just wanted to see her produce a fully formed but inanimate snowman from thin air; some just wanted to see her build a snowman in the traditional way, albeit from magical snow; and then some people just wanted an army or laborers.

"Great Queen, the kind that walks and has nimble hands and strong arms and does not melt," Jamang replied, his tone sliding between hopeful and embarrassed. This definitely sounded like a petition for an army or laborers.

"Your Excellency, our policy on such matters is known well," Elsa said severely. "We do not create life without just cause and careful deliberation."

 _Except, of course, when we do it accidentally,_ Elsa jabbed at herself.

"Great Queen, we understand this is no small thing that we ask, but it would save our people," Jamang implored. He approached the throne, stopping just short of Elsa's feet and dropped to both knees this time. Rogalund stared at the tableau.

"How so, Your Excellency?" Elsa leaned forward.

"Great Queen, our people will soon be forced to sell off their farmlands or sink into poverty unless we find a labor source that does not need a living wage."

"We are sorry, Your Excellency, we are confused." Elsa really wished she could have this conversation while not sitting on the throne so that she could stop using the Royal _We_. She supposed she could stand, although that might disquiet the Daloans. She decided to look into what she could do to put an end to the pompous mannerism's last bastion within Arendelle.

"Great Queen, our people cannot earn enough money from their crops to pay the field workers that are needed to grow, harvest, and process them."

"We do not understand, then, why they do not grow a different crop," Elsa said - but immediately remembered something very important. She stood up, and it had nothing to do with avoiding the majestic plural. "Wait a minute! Your main crop is chocolate, or rather the cocoa bean from the cacao tree!"

"Great Queen, you are correct." Jamang also rose to his feet and did not seem off-put. Rogalund's mouth was slightly open, however.

"How is it possible that your people don't make any money selling _chocolate_? My sister and I alone should be enough of a market to make your people quite rich." Elsa resisted the urge to pace.

"Great Queen, chocolate is not an essential food, and so we must sell it for what the traders will pay. Our farmers receive so little compensation that they are failing."

"Your Excellency is egregiously misinformed about the necessity of chocolate and its selling price. We pay handsomely for it throughout this part of the world. And I still do not understand why your people don't grow something else."

"Great Queen, our land is dense jungle. It is one of the few crops that grows well in the understory. And the soil is not rich enough for grains or grazing livestock, even if we could cut down the jungle. At first, we made good money selling the cocoa beans, but then the traders offered us less and less. Now we are so desperate that some farmers are forcing children to work for only a little food and a place to sleep."

Elsa felt her ire rise, and the carpet of frost from her entrance grew thicker and wider. There was just one possible explanation for this situation.

"Weselton," Queen Elsa hissed with indignant certainty.

 **Author's Note - Anachronism Stew, since cocoa wasn't grown in Africa until later in the Nineteenth Century, and there wasn't anything like modern commodities trading to create the real-life slave labor tragedy that goes on today in the cocoa producing countries in Africa. But the "Frozen" universe does have a conveniently devious villain with more than enough motivation to do such a thing.**

I' **m also probably playing a little bit fast and loose with the Royal** ** _We_** **. Given the era, it's likely that Elsa would use it any time she spoke in her capacity as "The State," and not just when sitting on the throne, but it seems like Arendelle is a much more laid back country.**


	11. Chapter 11

11\. What Price Chocolate

Ambassador Jamang, the other Daloans, Minister Rogalund, Kai, and the castle guards all looked at the Queen in surprise.

"Are the traders from Weselton, Your Excellency?" Elsa asked, staring into his eyes with an intensity that made him flinch. The cool breeze returned, stronger than before, ominously fluttering the Snow Queen's cape. The ambassador's entourage stiffened in apprehension.

"Yes, Great Queen," he said, taken aback. "But we usually don't use that name..."

"Do you call them 'Weasel Town'?" Elsa asked bluntly.

"Y-y-yes, Great Queen," stammered Jamang.

"So do we."

The other Arendellians present couldn't hold back brief snorts of laughter, protocol be hanged. For the first time during the meeting, the Daloans all truly smiled and loosened up. The ice was broken; they were clearly among friends.

"Then the Great Queen will help us?" Jamang dared to venture.

"Yes, but not by making snowmen to work for you," Elsa said. "It would be best if we continued this conversation in my study, where we can all sit comfortably and don't need to talk like a bad imitation of William Shakespeare. Kai, please put the elimination of the use of _pluralis maiestatis_ when speaking from the throne on my list of things to do. There is being courteous and honoring tradition, and then there is being pretentious."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Kai, as Elsa headed for the doors with everyone else in tow.

Not long after, Elsa sat behind her desk across from Ambassador Jamang and his chief aide Nakuta, with Minister Rogalund at the edge of the desk to her right. A Daloan and an Arendelle castle guard flanked the study's door. Kai had taken the rest of the Daloan delegation to the large dining room for breakfast, and would return to the study with a morning repast for the ambassador and his helpers.

"Tell us more, Your Excellency," Elsa prompted as they waited for the food to be brought.

"Gladly, Your Majesty. We are mostly small family farmsteads, and at first this new crop, cocoa, was a great boon because it was something we could sell abroad. We were grateful to Weselton for introducing it to us. But then about four years ago, they began to pay us less and less for it. They said they themselves needed to sell it below a certain price or no one would buy it. Last year was the worst, Your Majesty. They offered us such a low price that we made no profit, plus we had a bumper crop, and the traders would not buy it all."

"Are your farmers contractually obligated to sell to Weasel Town - I'm sorry, Weselton?" Elsa asked.

"No, Your Majesty," said the ambassador. "But they have been the only merchants who will come so far inland."

"And you can't bring it to the coast yourselves?"

Jamang's posture tensed. "Please understand, Your Majesty, that we do not have good relations with our neighbors. They were willing accomplices in the slave trade. We often needed to defend ourselves against their raids. Even after you northerners have now forbidden it here amongst yourselves, they still seek to take captives from the inland kingdoms and small tribes for their own use or for sale in Asia or on our own continent. King Adjoua is sorely troubled that some of our own people have resorted to the very measures that we have for so long needed to protect ourselves against."

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. Such complications were disheartening, and it was grating that the current ugly situation wouldn't exist if Weselton would just pay a price that allowed the Daloan farmers to make a fair profit - but she knew very well how Weselton operated under its present Duke. Elsa's analytical mind strongly suspected that the toupéed schemer tightened the screws on the Daloans last year in an effort to make up for lost revenue when Arendelle and Corona and other countries cut off or limited trade with his country.

The Queen's train of thought was interrupted when Kai and four maids arrived with breakfast for her guests. Kai set up folding trays, and three of the maids placed covered dishes on them and removed the lids. The kitchen staff had decided to give them buckwheat crêpes stuffed with smoked salmon and sautéed leeks, with a small dollop of dill sauce on the side. The fourth maid served the Daloans, Rogalund, and the castle guard coffee and left a plate of blueberry pastries.

Serious business was adjourned while the visitors ate.

"The Minister was telling us about your Harvest Festival," Jamang began as he finished his crêpe and contemplated a pastry.

"You are more than welcome to stay for it, Your Excellency," Elsa told him.

"We shall. We have heard about your magic show and are curious about your agriculture and finished goods," the ambassador said with a smile as he helped himself to the sweet treat.

"Our agriculture isn't that exciting, and to be truthful, there won't be that much of our harvest on display," Elsa explained. "Most of it will go straight to our granaries and into preservation techniques. While the yields of some of our crops are sufficient to meet the need of our national population, it is not what could be called an overabundance. We have a short growing season."

"The Snow Queen does not use her magic to ward off winter?" asked Nakuta.

"I can't do anything about how little sunlight we get in the winter, and without enough of that, the plants won't thrive. Plus, the Snow Queen tries her best not to meddle with nature too much. If a whole winter's worth of snow in July is wrong, then so is a whole winter as warm as July. There would be too many consequences. Besides, I am the _Snow_ Queen; my magic is intrinsically geared toward making snow, ice, and cold temperatures somehow. While I can stall or reroute or disperse a natural winter storm or lift a natural cold snap, it's much harder for me to do than it is with my own magically created weather."

"Such a concept is a marvel. I cannot wait for your magic show, Your Majesty," said Nakuta.

"As you wish," said Elsa with a wink. She knew full well what he meant, but always loved that particular conversational opening.

And an ice sculpture, big enough to require both hands to hold it, of an elephant and two palm trees appeared on her desk. Even though Rogalund had seen the Queen do things like that any number of times, to him there was still an air of the miraculous about it. The Daloans were clearly in awe. They repeatedly looked from the sculpture to Elsa.

"This is amazing!" said the Daloan guard.

"It is your to keep, if you wish. I will make more for your entire diplomatic mission and however many you would like for your people back home," Elsa said affably.

"It will not melt?" asked the ambassador.

"No. You can toss it in the fire if you'd like to test it. I made it so that it will not melt or break or cause discomfort when held."

The Daloans again repeatedly looked from the sculpture to Elsa. "It takes some getting used to," Rogalund empathized.


	12. Chapter 12

12\. Life Is Like A Box Of Chocolates

"Truly now, Your Majesty, why have you not taken over the world yet?" Nakuta wondered.

"Running one small country is hard enough. Why would I want to be in charge of more?" Elsa laughed.

"I think it is only difficult if one cares about the needs of other people," Jamang said softly. "If one is only seeking to enrich oneself or to satisfy one's own appetites, then it becomes easy."

"Perhaps so, Your Excellency. But it would be a very unpleasant way for me to live. Being utterly self-serving is merely a different form of confinement," Elsa replied philosophically.

Jamang raised his coffee cup in a toast to her, and the others in room followed suit. "Surely such wisdom can see a solution to our problem," the ambassador remarked.

"The first priority is to find more trade partners for you," Elsa enjoined. "Weselton under the leadership of this particular Duke has a well-earned reputation for wanting something for nothing. The utmost vigilance is needed when dealing with them, because they will try to exploit any oversight, weakness, or crisis; they will also attempt to retaliate in various ways if they are thwarted. The king my father taught me that there are those who seek to pillage and enthrall by way of business contracts and technicalities of law just as there are those who come with cannons, spears, and shackles."

"How is Daloa's relationship with France, Your Excellency?" asked Rogalund. "We know they are already active in your region, so perhaps they can be persuaded to pay you a more reasonable price."

Jamang's shoulders tensed again. "They seek to expand their colonial holdings. Many of our neighbors have been under their sway for more than a decade, and I must confess that we are going in the same direction, especially since our farmers' troubles began. Our King Adjoua is a good man, but I can see we are not as organized as you northern countries. You have much to tempt us with."

Elsa ran her hand over her hair, and considered the problem. "We can talk with Corona; they already trade with Duala and Buea. They might be interested in getting into the chocolate business, especially at Weselton's expense."

"Why not someone from Arendelle, Your Majesty?" inquired Jamang.

"First, Your Excellency, our merchant fleet is already running at full capacity; we are building new ships, but we must think of the forests in the long-run and the best ways to manage them," Elsa said simply. "Second, there is an image issue; if Arendelle were to directly shoulder aside Weselton in a part of the world where we have previously had scant dealings and they have been operating -unethically or not- for almost a century, it could be construed as an economic attack. Or Arendelle's first steps toward an empire."

"I begin to think Her Majesty wouldn't make such a bad empress," Nakuta said in the Kru language under his breath, but still loud enough for Jamang to hear. The ambassador reprovingly nudged Nakuta's leg with his own foot.

"Fair enough, Your Majesty," Jamang said as Nakuta surreptitiously rubbed his ankle.

"Minister Rogalund will discreetly discuss the proposition with Corona's ambassador, Your Excellency, and if they are responsive, arrange a meeting between you before your delegation departs for home," Elsa said with an aura of optimism. "I would also like to extend an offer for you to send some of your compatriots here to study at our university."

Jamang blinked at her. "Your Majesty, we thank you for your generosity, but we have only a very basic education system."

"Oh, I'm exaggerating somewhat by calling it a university, Your Excellency," Elsa clarified. "While it has some higher level academics in certain areas of study, it has a stronger technology and vocational school component. It's not so much about getting a degree. The goal is to make sure that my people have the skills needed to earn a living and navigate their own courses through the larger world; and that the country can fill positions of importance from our own populace.

"Some of it is still quite experimental: agriculture and metalcraft, for example. But the main emphasis is to teach all students certain observational and analytical techniques so that they can learn on their own or adapt what they've learned to a situation they've never seen before. This way, our farmers who come to study can always figure out the best crops to grow under different conditions or the best way to grow them. And they can teach their neighbors what they've learned once they return home. I believe something like that should be of interest to you."

Jamang blinked at her again. "This is indeed of interest to us, Your Majesty, but I must remind you that we probably can't afford-"

"The Crown has set up a scholarship fund, Your Excellency," Elsa interrupted. "I would need to look at some figures again, but I'm sure there is enough to cover the cost of tuition for at least a few Daloans, if they can get here. I'm also sure Minister Rogalund could find a few townsfolk in Arendelle that would be honored to house them during their stay." Rogalund nodded meaningfully.

Jamang blinked yet again, but this time to fight his tears. "We have no words to express our gratitude, Your Majesty. Why are you doing this for us?"

"Your people grow _chocolate_ , Your Excellency. It is my duty to help you," Elsa said succinctly but with a twinkle in her eye. "Minister Rogalund can tell you what courses of study are available at our university and help you decide which people to send. And now, I must ask your leave to move on to the next appointment on the schedule."

"But of course, Your Majesty. We now have much to discuss amongst ourselves, at any rate. We thank you for your time, Great Queen," Jamang said and rose from his chair. Nakuta and the Daloan guard joined him, and all three bowed to her. Elsa inclined her head in acknowledgement, and the Arendelle guard escorted the guests to the large dining hall where their fellows awaited.

As they walked down the passageway, Jamang pulled along side Nakuta and said in their native tongue: "I am sorry for kicking you. She wouldn't make such a bad empress."

[] [] [] []

"You handled that well, Your Majesty," Rogalund said after the Daloans filed out.

"Please schedule a meeting with the French ambassador," Elsa said with icy calmness. "We obviously need to have a little chat."

"Let us not be rash, Your Majesty," Rogalund said with concern. The temperature had dropped slightly.

"Oh, we will just talk. But if I find any evidence that they intend to invade Daloa or have one of their African client states do it, there will be repercussions. It's one thing if the Daloans align themselves with France because they think there is some real benefit to it; it's quite another if they are militarily forced into it."

"Strong-arming isn't France's style, Your Majesty," Rogalund reminded her.

"Did you not teach me about the French Empire and the recent wars against it?" quipped Elsa.

"Yes, but Your Majesty clearly forgets that France is now under new management," he joshed.

Elsa smiled in spite of herself, and the temperature returned to normal. "Still, the balance of power has changed again. And when that happens a country's goals and strategies may also change, and old alliances and old rivalries may be forgotten."

"Why are you _really_ helping the Daloans like this, Your Majesty?"

Elsa sighed. "Because this is an instance of not thinking through all of the consequences of my decisions. I broke off trade with Weselton, which hurt them financially far worse than us. However, being the way Weselton is, they obviously tried to make up for it by chiseling their remaining partners. I should have expected them to do something like that, especially with whomever had the least recourse. I made the mess that the Daloans are in, so I should clean it up as best I can. I think they only need a little assistance to get back on their feet."

Rogalund could not help remembering the eerily still and stoic young girl who sat at the far end of the long table in library when he tutored her. He had quickly come to consider her to be "special" from a scholastic view but quite a puzzle from the personal perspective. She had been so unlike any other child he had ever met, even the ones like his own who were mature for their ages and had early exposure to formal studies. Crown Princess Elsa was very aware of _consequences_ and _responsibilities_ and took them seriously to an extreme that was not often seen even in adults. At the time, Rogalund thought it was merely the king stressing their importance to the heir apparent; after the events of her coronation and the Great Thaw and working with her since then, he saw that there was much more to it, even if he still didn't know the full story.

"There is a limit to human foresight, Your Majesty," he reassured. "You could hardly be expected to know all of Weselton's trade partners and all of the goods they deal in; it's one of their most closely guarded secrets."

"True. But I have a very good idea where they sell the Daloans' cocoa beans: France and the Regenerated Swiss Confederation. I wonder what would happen if they were to find out precisely how little Weselton has been paying for the raw material," Elsa said all too innocently.

"You wouldn't!" Rogalund said with feigned shock.

"That man has managed to taint something as good and pure as _chocolate_. I shall not be able to enjoy it again until I know the Daloans get a fair price for it," Elsa said sincerely. "Such a deed cannot go unpunished. Although I promised him not to use my magic against him or Weselton provided that they left us in peace, I said nothing about using my cunning and calculating mind."

"This is why no one can be persuaded to play chess against you, Your Majesty."

"It's their loss," Elsa punned.

Rogalund rolled his eyes. "It's time to corral the Khentiians, Your Majesty," he said as he rose, bowed, and left the study.

Elsa once again checked her appearance and waited for Kai's knock. And hoped that the Khentiians did not have a similar story.

 **Author's Note - I really want to give the Duke of Weselton the name "Otto Conrad II," but chances are that won't be the name the Disney people give him (if he ever does get a name), even though he totally looks like an "Otto Conrad II." I imagine Weselton as country to be geographically in the vicinity of Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg, and to be a hate-sink combination of the worst historical traits of the Dutch and the English empires.**

 **Of course, Arendelle's "university" wouldn't have existed back in 1800s, but there's no reason Elsa couldn't have pioneered such a concept.**


	13. Chapter 13

13\. Cry Me A River

Once the Khentiian delegation had finished their breakfast in the dining hall, Foreign Minister Rogalund escorted them to the ball room. Kai knocked on the study door, and the whole process of the grand entrance was repeated. Once seated on the throne, she gave the Khentiians a thorough looking-over. They were short by Arendelle's standards, but their build indicated endurance and strength. A few sported mustaches and goatee beards. They had obviously worn their best court attire: long-sleeved, calf-length tunics made of richly detailed cashmere cloth, closed at the side and shoulder with shining silver buttons, with silk sashes tied around their waists. Their boots had up-turned toes, much like Kristoff's Sami footwear.

"Your Majesty, I present to you Ambassador Nasu and his retinue," said Kai. The beardless man wearing a burgundy-colored _deel_ that was interwoven with what must have been threads of real gold and silver bowed stiffly to her and made brief eye contact before turning his gaze to the carpet of frost.

"Welcome to Arendelle, Your Excellency," she said in Disnee. "I am ready to hear the pleasure of my valiant brother, Bolad, Khaan of Khentii." She would make the formal royal decree about the discontinuation of the use of _pluralis_ _maiestatis_ later.

"Your Majesty, my Khaan has received reports of your powers and has judged it necessary to treat for peace with you. My Khaan and my people wish for no war against winter's fury, and hope the Snow Queen will do us the favor of entering a pact of friendship with us," Nasu said, still keeping his eyes trained on the frost.

"I will gladly do so. I desire to live in peace with the world, Your Excellency," Elsa said. Between his choice of words and fixation on the frost carpet, she was concerned that he and his country were uncomfortable with magic. She glanced at Rogalund to get his reading of the situation, but the Foreign Minister clandestinely shrugged his shoulders.

"So we have heard, Queen Elsa. We thank you for your magnanimity." He continued to stare at it.

"I will dissipate it if it disturbs you, Your Excellency," Elsa said evenly.

"Please, no, Your Majesty. I beg you to forgive my rudeness," Nasu said earnestly, finally meeting her eyes again. "We have traveled so far to estimate your abilities for ourselves after listening to many conflicting stories. From what we have seen, Your Majesty is indeed strong enough to grant my Khaan the other favor he asks of you, if it is to Your Majesty's liking."

"And what is that, Your Excellency?" Elsa queried, dreading another appeal for soldiers or a work force.

"We would like a river, Your Majesty," the ambassador said, unabashed. "One that is wide, deep, and slow-moving, and joins with the Onon, so that we may engage in commerce with our neighbors more easily and perhaps create an irrigation network."

While most of the diplomatic missions to Arendelle had the main goal of securing Elsa's promise not to use her magic against their respective countries, every so often she encountered one that _wanted_ her to drop a glacier on their land, albeit in a controlled fashion. They were usually desert countries or those temporarily suffering from a drought. On occasion, they wanted a wall of thick ice to secure a border, reroute traffic, dam a river, or suchlike. But since she had begun Arendelle's harbor renovation project, she had more requests like these, that involved serious earthmoving.

"Your Excellency, my policy is not to meddle too much with the natural world; and I currently need line-of-sight to do work that requires precise placements," Elsa said patiently.

"But Your Majesty, we have heard what you did with your own inlet," Nasu said, somewhat flummoxed.

"I only dredged a short stretch of it, where the end moraine of the glacier that created our fjord left a threshold that is shallower than the water behind it, and the threshold is rising even higher because the earth's crust is rebounding now that the weight of the glacial ice isn't pressing down on it anymore. That sill was hindering the ocean currents from replacing the deep water in the fjord, and the oxygen levels at the back of the inlet were low, which caused the sea life to migrate elsewhere or die out," Elsa justified herself. "It's quite different from gouging a river bed a hundred miles long and eroding mountains and highlands to give it the optimal gradient and flow rate for boat travel. To say nothing of how that would affect your and your neighbors' existing drainage basins."

Nasu and the other Khentiians stared dumbfounded at her. Now that she was interacting more freely with everyone again, Elsa had come to realize that many of the things she "just knew" went right over other people's heads -even highly educated ones- or were still considered mysteries of the universe. This was obviously one of those times.

"All I did with the fjord was unclog the opening so the water could move the way it used to," she tried again. They seemed to understand her this time. "Besides, if I make a river for you, I would have to do it for nearly everybody who asks for something like it, and then nature really would be out of balance. As would the political world, because some country would eventually ask me to make a dam on the very same river that another country asked me to widen or straighten."

"We see, Your Majesty," Nasu said glumly.

"I am sorry that I cannot help you in that way, Your Excellency," Elsa said sincerely. "Perhaps there are other options. What goods did you need to transport?"

Nasu shifted his weight and became very interested in the curled toes of his boots. His compatriots likewise suddenly found the columns or the ceiling of the ball room to be fascinating.

"Your Excellency, is that a 'It's a secret' or a 'We don't know'?" Elsa gently prompted.

"We don't really know, Your Majesty," he admitted, chagrined.

"You wanted a watercourse to ship merchandise that you don't have, Ambassador?" Elsa asked incredulously. Rogalund's mouth hung slightly open.

"Well, Your Majesty, we were hoping that if we had an easy way to reach the outside world, it would stimulate our productiveness."

"Your Excellency, does Khentii have any enterprises that can be done efficiently enough to make a surplus for export?" Elsa asked. "Textiles, for example? The material that your tunics are made from is gorgeous."

The ambassador thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Our population is too small and too scattered. Bolad Khaan knows our isolation has become a problem, Your Majesty. The world is passing us by," he said with a defeated sigh.

"Your Excellency, the same could have easily been said about Arendelle at various times in our history. Of course, we have the benefit of waterfront property, but we have faced some of the same challenges. Would you care to continue this conversation in my study?" Elsa invited. "The chairs are more comfortable there."

"If it so pleases the Queen. We have been told of Your Majesty's cleverness, and will consider your advice," Nasu said, not sounding particularly hopeful.

They filed out and once ensconced in the Queen's study with a pot of tea and another plate of pastries at their disposal, Elsa contemplated the situation. "What about natural resources, Your Excellency? Do your mountains have timber or deposits of ore and minerals?"

"Our mountains are sacred to us, Your Majesty," Nasu told her. "They are our cathedrals, our monuments, our burial grounds, the inspiration for our music and poetry."

"I can appreciate that, Your Excellency," Elsa said with a knowing smile.

"So you see our dilemma, Your Majesty. We do not have much going for us."

"You have scenic beauty, your people, and your history going for you, Ambassador. Have you thought about tourism?"

Nasu sputtered into his tea. "Clearly, you do not see our dilemma, Your Majesty!" he exclaimed.

"I was skeptical at first, too, Your Excellency, but I have seen how much people enjoy the 'regular' parts of my country. While my magic is the main draw for Arendelle's tourism, once they are here, our visitors are also captivated by our natural wonders, the narratives and relics of bygone ages, local customs, and what passes for pageantry. Many say they hope to return."

"Queen Elsa, our history is one of warfare and conquest. It is not something people would come to celebrate," Nasu said in exasperation. "If we were to allow people to visit the great Khaan's grave, all they would do is spit on it or otherwise defile it."

"I thought the same thing about the barrow of Bjørn the Berserk, Your Excellency" Elsa said with a chuckle. "But it turns out that there are no hard feelings after enough centuries have passed. These days, he's just a historical personage, as horrible as most of his deeds abroad were. And your great Khaan actually had virtues as a leader, whereas there's not much positive we can say about my ancestor."

Nasu gave Elsa a dubious look. "Well, we would still never permit outsiders to view the grave, Your Majesty."

"Then build a grand memorial elsewhere, Your Excellency. Educate your visitors about his accomplishments and controversies," Elsa suggested.

"Your Majesty, no one would travel all that way to see one monument," Nasu insisted.

"So give them guided tours of your mountains, explain your religious beliefs. I am sure your people remain great equestrians, Your Excellency. Put on a display of horsemanship for them. Races of various distances, livestock herding, a reenactment of the prowess of your mounted archers and lancers of old."

Nasu perked up. "That has potential..."

"Make a festival of it, Your Excellency. Invite your neighbors to join in to make a bigger show and draw bigger crowds," Elsa encouraged.

"You should talk with our Minister of Tourism, Ambassador," said Rogalund. "He knows how to organize things, how to get the word out - and how best to stage it."

"I'm not so sure about the staging," Elsa cut in. "He'd have hands-on audience participation in my magic shows if I weren't adamant that safety is the top priority."

"Nonetheless, Your Excellency, he has a feel for what pleases crowds. You just need to use your own judgment if he says you should try shooting an apple off of a spectator's head while blindfolded at full gallop," Rogalund explained.

"If you stay until Friday and into the weekend, you can see our Harvest Festival, Your Excellency. We'll show you what goes on behind the scenes, a tour of the non-magical activities and planning that makes everything a success," Elsa promised.

Nasu pondered it for a moment. "Your Majesty, I doubt we will be able to do everything as you do, but learning something new cannot hurt."

"Wonderful, Ambassador. I think you will find something that you can use or adapt to your people's situation and talents," Elsa said with a smile.

"And now, Your Excellency, would you and your people care to join the Daloan diplomats on a brief tour of the castle and town?" asked Rogalund.

"Certainly, Minister," Nasu said eagerly. "We heard many tales of this land on our journey here. It is amusing to see what has been exaggerated and what has been understated and what was just plain wrong."

"Then if you would follow us, Your Excellency, we will begin," said Rogalund, as Elsa stood up. The men briskly copied her. Rogalund opened the door and held it as the Queen and ambassador walked out to see the sights of Arendelle.


	14. Chapter 14

14\. It's A Small World After All

Back in the Valley of the Living Rock, Kristoff woke shortly before dawn to say, as it were, "goodnight" to his troll family. Grand Pabbie once more assured everybody that he was indeed fine, but he was introspective as he arranged a number of Elsa's ice sculptures around his favorite sleeping spot. When the trolls rolled up into their round stone forms, Kristoff dozed off again, since it would be at least another hour before Anna roused herself, and Sven was still snoring softly, with Olaf nestled against his flank.

When Anna finally stirred, she wasn't sure if it was due to the morning light or her rumbling stomach. Her moaning yawn awakened Kristoff. Olaf was the next to greet the new day, and finally Sven got up and stretched before sauntering over to the picnic basket in search of any remaining carrots.

"Good morning, Your Royal Bedhead," Kristoff teased. As tousled as her hair was in the morning, she never seemed to take that long to braid it again. Kristoff was thankful for that little blessing. "Elsa's sandwich and cake from dinner are still left, if you're hungry."

Anna smacked her lips, not yet completely alert and aware, but the words "sandwich" and "cake," beckoned her consciousness to the forefront. "Soundzzz like a plaannn," she drawled.

"Come on, you can eat in the sled on the way back," he said as he fed Sven the last few carrots.

"What's the rush?" Anna said with another yawn as she tamed her infamous mop top.

"Don't you have classes today? It's Monday."

"Oh, it's not like I'm really enrolled at the university. I just attend some classes, sometimes," she said, unconcerned.

"I think Elsa would like it if you signed up, or at least showed up regularly and did the coursework," Kristoff urged as he hitched Sven to the sled.

Anna sighed. "I know, but there are so many other things to do and see, too. And Elsa would like it if I went to every council meeting, but that isn't going to happen, either."

"I love the stories the members tell afterward when you do go to the council meetings. I wish I could watch one with you in action," Olaf giggled. Anna's mouth hung open.

Kristoff shook his head. "Come on," he said. "Let's get going, because _I_ might have some official ice master stuff to do with those diplomats that Elsa is meeting with this morning."

Their trip back was without incident, and once close to the town limits, they were greeted by everyone they met. The people of Arendelle were always happy to see Princess Anna, although they had learned by now to secure anything fragile and valuable when they saw her coming their way. Many of them had nicknamed her "the Sunflower Princess," since the sunflower was her favorite floral motif and her sunny disposition could chase away all manner of metaphorical gloomy skies. While most of the citizens loved their Queen, it was usually in a cerebral or reverential way; with the Princess, their affection was much more personal and familiar.

And Anna relished her job as liaison between the Queen and the people. She finally had all the company she had fantasized about as a child. As Elsa had told her not long after the Great Thaw, if she was ever bored nowadays, then it was her own fault. As much as Anna disliked going to the council meetings, she rarely missed an open court session. She could boost the confidence of the most shy and intimidated petitioner.

They reached the Royal Stables, where Sven had a stall next to the one at the end of the building that Sleipnir used when he felt like it. Once free from the sled, the reindeer readily trotted inside to get a nice drink of water. Kristoff could see that there was fresh straw bedding already prepared, and a mixture of hay, carrots, clover, dandelions, barley, and willow boughs was waiting in his manger. Elsa made sure that the stable staff pampered his long-time friend. Kristoff would never dare say it to the Queen, but his heart ached for her when other animals freaked out or made themselves scarce in her presence.

Olaf saw two stableboys who were extremely fond of him and immediately set to chattering away with them. Sven was settled into his stall, heaving a contented sigh at the delectable delights in his food trough. Satisfied that his partner was comfortable, Kristoff and Anna exited the building only to hear a familiar voice.

"And these are the Royal Stables, which might be of some interest to you, Ambassador Nasu," Elsa said in the Disnee language.

"Yes, Your Majesty, I have heard your horses are very hardy-" replied a man, stopping short both verbally and physically as the two groups nearly bumped into each other when Elsa, Rogalund, and the diplomats turned the corner.

Without missing a beat, Elsa said, "I would like to introduce you all to my sister, Crown Princess Anna of Arendelle and Ice Master Kristoff Bjorgman." Elsa subtly emphasized the word "crown." It was a signal to Anna -if the Princess was paying enough attention- that she should be on her most careful and formal behavior.

Anna took the hint and curtsied. Kristoff bowed rather fluidly; he was getting better at protocol, but he was not about to say a word during these niceties unless asked a direct question.

"These are Ambassador Cocody Jamang and the delegation from Daloa, and Ambassador Nasu and the diplomatic mission from Khentii." They all bowed smartly in return.

"I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!" the snowman said as he toddled forward, stick arms outstretched expectantly.

The visitors all stared at him. Elsa tensed slightly and clamped down on her magic; she preferred for Olaf to meet new people under more controlled circumstances, so that the guests knew what to anticipate and how _not_ to react. Olaf had had his head kicked off more than once when he took someone by surprise.

Fortunately, this set was not outwardly disturbed by a living snowman. They took it in stride and bowed in Olaf's direction.

"Wow, look at how colorful your clothes are! I love it!" Olaf gushed. "Oh, wait, let me try this out." He produced the bag of ice-fabric that held the rocks from the volcano, and took out the crystal-coated ones. He adroitly switched out his coal buttons, clearly thrilled with his new look. His cheerful laugh was infectious and the Daloans and Khentiians could not help smiling.

"He is like a child," Jamang said softly. "I understand your policy better now, Your Majesty. They really are _alive._ "

"While I might be able to make one that is merely an automaton which can only perform a few limited functions and has no thoughts or emotions, it is not something I want to experiment with, ever. I don't yet have precise control over this aspect of my powers," Elsa admitted.

"And they don't all turn out this friendly," Anna added. Elsa shot her a warning glare.

As though on cue, Sleipnir swaggered into view, drawn by the voices of Elsa and Olaf, and the scent of Sven. All of the guests gasped in astonishment.

"The horse... is... made of snow..." Nakuta said slowly, trying to process the concept, as Sleipnir showed off every last detail of his physical perfection. The entire Khentiian contingent dropped to their knees in awe.

Sleipnir snorted to express his condescending amusement. "At last, humans who know their place in the natural order," he said in that whispery, far-off voice.

"The horse... is... made of snow... and talks..." Jamang said slowly. The Khentiians trembled.

"Sleipnir, please be nice," Elsa advised. She materialized two ice cubes and held them out to the snow-horse, who took them gently from her palm. "They have come in peace from distant lands."

"Very well," he murmured and strutted into the stable to see Sven. Olaf joined him; he wanted the stable staff to see his new buttons.

"We heard no tales of _that_ ," Nasu whispered, his eyes wide.

"He's, uh, somewhat new," Elsa confessed, imagining all too well the stories that would now be spread across Asia and down Africa. "Before anyone gets any ideas, he is not for sale, and I won't be making more of them."

"Yes, please don't ask her to make more of them," Anna concurred.

"So ... let's continue on to the town, Ambassadors," Rogalund jumped in. "The university should also be of interest to you."

"Queen Elsa, why have you not conquered the world yet?" asked Nasu, still clearly captivated. "Or at least bought it?"

"Because, Your Excellency, I really don't want to," said Elsa off-handedly as she tried to herd everyone away from the stables. "I think you should see the university. Besides, it's very close to Embassy Row, which is your next stop."

"Can we see the snow-horse run?" asked another Khentiian.

"Please, we need to stay on schedule right now. We will try to arrange something for you later on during the week," said Rogalund, all but shoving the dignitaries along. Kristoff and Anna also began to help usher the guests out. It reminded Anna of the last time she tried to guide a flock stubborn, wayward goslings to the safety of the pond in the castle's garden.

Finally, they succeeded in getting the visitors to the main gate, where they were joined by a squad of guards, and then out into the town. The people of the port had become accustomed to seeing all sorts of foreigners and had long since ceased to gawk; they could also tell when their Queen was on a "business outing," and knew to keep a polite distance unless she approached them. Elsa and her entourage reached the highest part of the old settlement with little delay. From there, it was a short trek up a flight of steps to the new terrace level that Elsa's ice magic had carved out of the hills and rock that surrounded the town. A monarch who could command glaciers was an incredibly useful piece of construction equipment.

It was on this new ledge that Arendelle's university and residential diplomatic community had been built. It was serviced by several sets of stairs hewn from the earth and cliffs and by a gently sloping road with many switchbacks for wheeled traffic. The buildings were mostly in Arendelle's traditional style: fairly narrow with steeply-pitched roofs to better shed snow. Anyone unfamiliar with the town before the Great Thaw would be hard pressed to tell where the new structures began and the older ones ended.

"Here we are, my friends," said Minister Rogalund, stopping by an edifice that was wider than most others. "The main hall of Arendelle's university."


	15. Chapter 15

15\. A Stirling Example of Human Ingenuity

"As I told Ambassador Jamang, it's not like other universities. The main focus right now is to create a skilled workforce here in Arendelle," Elsa explained as they entered the building. "Although we do have a few courses of study that you would find in a traditional school. Don't we, Princess Anna?"

"Yes, we do," Anna replied, knowing she was being goaded by her sister. "But I myself prefer the more unconventional and practical classes. Not everyone learns the same way or at the same rate."

"Very true, Your Highness," Rogalund said meaningfully, trying to keep the Queen from turning the last part of the tour into a royal bickering match about the continuing education of the Crown Princess.

They reached another set of doors, and Rogalund held it open for everyone to pass through. The room was a workshop of some sort, filled with equipment that the Daloans and Khentiians -and the guards, Minister Rogalund, Anna and Kristoff, for that matter- couldn't begin to name or state the purpose of. Elsa walked over to a table in the middle of the room and picked up a small contraption. It had a brass wheel on a bar of steel, set atop two copper discs with some kind of pouch stretched between them.

"Gentlemen, here is a brief demonstration of what the future holds," Elsa said nonchalantly as she conjured a cylinder of ice the same diameter as the discs of the machine.

She placed the machine on top of the ice and gave the wheel a quarter turn to set it in motion. To the diplomats' amazement, the wheel continued to spin at a steady speed as the membrane between the two discs pumped up and down. Elsa drew their attention to a small housing attached to the top disc. There was a piston moving inside it, connected to the wheel by a thin rod.

"What is making it move?" asked Jamang, mesmerized.

"The difference in the temperature between the ice and the air," Elsa answered and started to pace. "It also works if you put it on top of something that is warmer than the air. For instance a cup of hot tea or coffee. But since I can create ice that won't melt, we've been using that as we experiment with the Stirling brothers' invention."

Elsa was still uneasy about the implications of this ice-powered energy source, and left a trail of frost as she paced. Since no one was really sure how Elsa created ice and snow, no one was really sure how many laws of nature were being violated by the engine and what the consequences were. None of the other people in the room seemed to be troubled by it, however. Even though Anna, Kristoff, Rogalund, and the royal bodyguards had seen the Stirling engine in operation many times before, they were still enchanted. The Daloans and Khentiians were helplessly transfixed.

"Just take our money," said Jamang, spellbound.

"Take our children, take our land," intoned Nasu, hypnotized.

"That won't be necessary, Your Excellencies," Elsa said dryly. "Besides, we have a long way to go before this is developed to the point of large-scale usefulness. And then there is the not insignificant matter of designing devices that run on the electric current this engine could produce, _if_ we actually had something that could convert the wheel's rotation to electrical energy. The Reverend Stirling and Mr. Faraday are quite optimistic, though."

Elsa could tell nobody had heard a word she said, as was too often the case when it came to this little mechanism. Right now, it was barely more than a toy, albeit one with huge potential, but most of the visitors were fascinated to the point of distraction by it. It would probably be a good idea to move it to the end of the tour of the university, rather than have it at the beginning. Between Sleipnir and the Stirling engine, she was sure the Daloans and Khentiians likely had enough to process for one morning.

The Queen tried to catch the Foreign Minister's eye as he, too, stared enraptured by the coordinated movements of the pouch, piston, and wheel. Rogalund noticed her and quickly snapped out of it. Elsa mouthed the word "lunch" to him, and he nodded his head.

"And so, my good sirs, this concludes the tour," said Rogalund. "If you would deign to come with me just a short distance to the Visby embassy, you can enjoy a relaxing luncheon and stimulating conversation with some of the other diplomatic representatives here in Arendelle."

They seemed not to pay any attention to him, so Elsa lifted the Stirling engine and annihilated the ice cylinder. This was met by a collective groan of disappointment. "Please don't fret, gentlemen," Elsa reassured them. "I am confident that you will encounter many other interesting and inspiring sights this week. I will see you all at dinner tonight."

"Queen Elsa, we thank you for your help, hospitality, and patience," Jamang said sincerely.

"Yes, Your Majesty, we are grateful for your advice, generosity, and time," agreed Nasu. Then the combined delegations bowed deeply to Elsa, as did Rogalund and the guards. She smiled warmly and inclined her head in acknowledgement before they filed out, leaving the Queen, the Princess, and the Ice Master.

"I take it you had no trouble getting back from the valley. And no nuptials," Elsa teased.

"No problems, no weddings," Kristoff replied evenly. "And Grand Pabbie was fine."

"That's a relief. I don't know what happened, but I didn't have any other glitches on the ride home or this morning," Elsa told them.

"So how did meeting the guests go?" Anna asked. It was one of the few aspects of her sister's job that Anna thought was somewhat engaging, although she found the rest of the world's general paranoia about Elsa's powers be annoying.

"Oh, the usual these days," said Elsa as she sat down on one of the stools in the workshop. "First, 'Promise us you won't use your magic to harm us.' Then, 'Could you use your magic to do us a favor?' Followed by, 'Hey, you're pretty friendly, and we didn't need your magic after all.' "

"What did these ones want?" Anna grimaced. She really, really, _really_ disliked it when people took advantage of her sister's good nature and lingering sensitivity about the so-called Eternal Winter by insinuating that Elsa was under some perpetual obligation to prove her peaceful intentions - even if the vast majority of them truly did come to believe that Elsa was "the most gracious, gorgeous, smartest, kindest, absolutely perfect role model" by the end of their visit.

"The Khentiians need a new business plan; the Daloans need a new business partner. They were actually very nice and didn't use the 'wicked sorceress' angle at all," Elsa revealed. "I think we sorted it out."

"Well, that's good. I know you like helping people, and you're not too bad at problem solving," Anna said with a cheeky smile and deliberate understatement. "You'll eventually get the hang of this queen stuff. What's next on your agenda? I'm going back to the castle to get cleaned up, have lunch, and help Stefanie look for a dress for the Harvest Festival ball." Stefanie was a young townswoman that Anna had met and befriended on her adventures after the Great Thaw; she was now attending the university. Elsa considered the level-headed Stefanie to be a good influence on her sister and approved of them spending time together.

Elsa glanced at the clock. "I have meeting here with a new batch of magic researchers in about half an hour. So I'm just going to loiter around until then. Remember that we have a state dinner tonight, so don't go off gallivanting too far away."

"Have I ever missed a banquet?" Anna laughed.

"Actually-" Elsa began.

"It was a rhetorical question," Anna interrupted. "Are you coming, Kristoff?"

"And watch two women shop for a dress? No thanks. I'll go check on Sven. He seemed a little slower on the trip back to town," Kristoff replied.

"Well, then I'll catch up with you two later. Have as much fun as you can being sticks-in-the-mud!" Anna taunted over her shoulder as she left the room.

"I know she cares so much about others, and I wish I could get her to apply that quality to something more than being a social butterfly," Elsa said softly.

"I would ask why you can't just order her to, but first off, I totally understand that it's close to impossible," Kristoff said wryly. "And second, there's something important I need to talk with you about."

"Permission to speak freely," Elsa said somewhat wearily.

"After you left last night, Grand Pabbie warned her not to push you."

"Let me guess: she all but resolved to push me," Elsa deduced.

"More or less," Kristoff said with exasperation. "She thinks that you work too much, and that she's the best person to get you to do what Grand Pabbie said about embracing your emotions. She is sure the only thing we have to worry about is worrying too much."

"Was it another one of those vague statements like 'Fear will be your enemy'?" Elsa asked.

"No, he was very clear. Nothing sounded like a puzzle to me. He told her not to push you, even if she meant well. And to let you take things at your own pace, for her sake more than yours," Kristoff recounted. "He also told us that you are the strongest ever magical human that he knows of, but I get the feeling you already suspected that. He said that you were as powerful as the 'naturally magical beings of old' - whoever he meant by that."

"Thank you for telling me," Elsa said with a sigh. "I'll be on guard, and try to talk some sense into her."

"Please don't tell her I told you," Kristoff pleaded. Elsa gave him a confused look. "It's a boyfriend-girlfriend thing. It would be really awkward."

"Oh," Elsa said simply. "Did Olaf hear Grand Pabbie warn her?"

"I'm not certain how much attention he was paying," he admitted. "Sometimes he's like a master spy, other times he's completely oblivious."

Elsa considered the situation. "All right. I'll try to lead Olaf into telling me what he overheard. If he didn't, I'll try to lead Anna herself into telling me. Then I'll try to get her to heed his warning. I want to at least match my record of thirteen years between major ice-magic accidents."

Kristoff smiled wanly. With the two of them watching out for Anna's overzealous helpfulness, there was a chance they could see and avert the catastrophe before it occurred. Or so he hoped.

"Speaking of really awkward, I think I'll be going before the mad scientists and absent-minded professors show up," Kristoff joked.

"Save yourself. Run away while you can," Elsa bantered back. "You are much better off in the company of a reindeer."

"You don't need to tell _me_ that," Kristoff said as he walked to the door.

"Thank you again," Elsa said seriously. "And if there's anything Sven needs, don't hesitate to ask for it."

The ice harvester stopped and turned. "It's the time of year when his hooves are changing from splayed to compact. He probably just has something stuck between his toes. It's happened before." He bowed to the Queen before he took his leave, even though he knew he didn't need to in a setting like this.

Elsa sighed and got up from the stool. There were times when she just wanted to perch on top of a jagged, snow-covered mountain and let everybody else be as crazy and stupid as they wanted to be. For all of the things pertaining to nature and mathematics that she "just knew," there were even more concerning humanity that she could not fathom. And soon it would be time to mystify the people who had come to study her magic while they in turn perplexed her.

She left the workshop, walked down the hall, up a flight of stairs, and then knocked on an unassuming-looking door.

"Who is it?" came a muffled, half-preoccupied voice.

"Elsa of Arendelle," she replied with mock severity.

"Oh my goodness! That's right! Look at the time! One moment, please, Your Majesty!" There were sounds of heavy objects being fumbled from one place to another and a chair being dragged across the floor. Elsa could only smile and shake her head.

Eventually, the door opened, and an older man with unkempt, greying hair and wearing a dark suit covered with chalk dust bowed apologetically to the Queen before inviting her in with a motion of his hand. And with that, Elsa entered the office of Professor Bernhard Holmboe.

 **Author's Note - For visuals of a Stirling engine, go to Youtube and check out "Bill Nye the Science Guy Demonstrates the Stirling Engine" uploaded by SophiaLearning; at about 1:09 is where the "ice-powered" segment begins. A good close up look can be found at "Low Temperature Stirling Engine" uploaded by Grand Illusions. While I'm pretty sure the materials and manufacturing processes needed to make them that small and efficient didn't exist back in the 1830s-1840s, the engine itself very much did.**

 **Needless to say, if Elsa really had lived back then, she would have been highly sought after by the engineering and scientific community. I'm not going to focus too much on the pure science part because I don't think it can be done any better than what's in "Magic Makes Fools" by CrunchDeNumbers. But the practical applications and implications of many of Elsa's abilities create a "believable" framework for the multiple plots -some to manipulate her, some to eliminate her or at least keep her neutral- that need to converge on Elsa to put her in any kind of situation where the outcome is even somewhat in doubt.**


	16. Chapter 16

16\. A Meeting of the Minds

"Is there not enough money in the budget for another bookcase, Professor? Every time I come in here, you have acquired more books and journals, and yet you have nowhere to put them except on the floor," Elsa quipped.

"A thousand apologies for the mess, Your Majesty," Professor Holmboe said as he motioned her to a chair whose flattened seat cushion suggested it had been cleared of a heavy load only recently. "I have been meaning to procure another bookcase and to have some of these journals added to the library, but it has been very easy to get wrapped up in the latest developments these days."

"I will have something delivered to you by the end of the week. Unless you don't mind one made from ice."

The Professor paused to consider. He had no doubt the Snow Queen could make an entire wall's worth of shelving perfectly tailored to his current needs in less than an instant, as well as be able to modify it later with a literal snap of her fingers should his collection change dramatically.

"I'll take one made of ice, Your Majesty. From here to here, and this high," he said, indicating where and what size he wanted. "Six shelves, if you please."

And it _was_ done in less than an instant. It was an exact stylistic match of the two wooden ones already overflowing with notebooks and printed material. He bowed deeply to the Queen.

Bernhard Holmboe had been her final mathematics tutor. As a child, her aptitude for math had a tendency to quickly surpass the upper bound of what her educators felt competent to teach. After the third one had to be retired within a span of five years, King Agnarr decided to seek out the most advanced instructor who could be lured to mysterious and secluded Arendelle by the promises of a handsome salary, a bright and well-behaved student, and time enough for his own research.

Holmboe had been initially a little dismissive of his pupil and much more interested in the freedom to pursue his own mathematical investigations, but he quickly came to be amazed by the girl's mind. Of all the tutors, he was also the least fazed by the King's seemingly odd dictums concerning his daughters and by Crown Princess Elsa's withdrawn albeit polite manner. Holmboe thought it was quite a shame that Elsa's destiny was to govern since her potential in math, science, and engineering was so obvious.

Then, when her parents were lost at sea, Elsa's destiny became reality much sooner than anyone had planned on. Although still too young by Arendelle's criteria to be officially crowned queen, it now fell to her to put all her education to use and run the country. And so, her lessons ceased. The tutors who were suitable for Princess Anna were kept on, if they so wished; all others were given generous severance pay and letters of recommendation. Holmboe was the most saddened and disappointed of the lot, since he and Elsa were beginning to explore the revolutionary geometry of Lobachevsky and Bolyai; the instructor was absolutely sure that Elsa would have made some great contributions to the new field if she hadn't been burdened with executive duties so early in life.

Of course, at the time, he didn't know about her other burden. So Holmboe was just as surprised as the next person when news of Arendelle's Eternal Winter and its instigator reached Christiania; he was even more surprised when he was officially offered a position at the new university that Queen Elsa was building. Once he convinced his wife that the benefits far outweighed the risks, they returned to the port town. The general atmosphere did wonders for their intellectual and physical constitutions.

One of the most invigorating things about Arendelle was the constant influx of visitors who came to study the Snow Queen's powers. Holmboe often found himself to be something of a moderator when she met with them. Many times he had trouble falling asleep due to the displays of magic he had seen that day. This was indeed an exciting time to be alive.

"Are you ready to meet everybody, Your Majesty?" asked Holmboe. "This has been one of the most impatient groups yet, especially the historian. I think you will yet again fulfill someone's life-long dream today, so don't be too surprised if she faints."

"I'm given to understand there will be a doctor in the room, so she should be in capable hands if she does," Elsa said glibly. "Are they assembled?"

"Certainly by now, Your Majesty," Holmboe said. "If you would follow me, please."

They left the office and walked down the hall to another door. Elsa ran her hand over her hair, and summoned a strong burst of cold wind to remove the chalk dust that her ice-dress had picked up from the mathematician's office. She gestured to Holmboe and gave his suit a similar treatment.

"As I've said many times, Your Majesty, you are without doubt the most useful crowned head in the world."

"It's nice to know I have a future as a laundress if being a queen doesn't work out for me."

Holmboe smiled and straightened his cravat. He made no attempt at his hair, understanding a lost cause when he saw one. Elsa nodded to him to signal her readiness. He opened the door and announced in the Disnee language, "My lady and gentlemen, I present to you Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

Elsa waited a moment before entering, and Holmboe shut the door behind them. There were two Arendelle guards flanking the door. This was Holmboe's usual classroom, and it was simply furnished with an oblong table and chairs, a clock, and a chalkboard on the wall opposite the door. Once again, Elsa did not look at the people standing at attention as she walked to the head of the table, just in front of the chalkboard. Holmboe noticed the Queen briefly examine the chalkboard before turning to face the group.

There was no chair at that end of the table, but that was by design. With a lazy wave of her hand, a throne made of ice with cushions of snow, much more ornate and _comfortable_ than the wooden official one, materialized out of nothingness. Her audience gasped. She swept her ice cape over her left arm with an elegant motion and sat down. This routine had its origins as a way to forestall both the inevitable clamoring for her to "do the magic" and the occasional accusation of being a fraud.

"Good morning, learned sirs and madam. Please be seated," Elsa bade them, and they did so with varying degrees of gracefulness. As was usual, they were either staring at her in awe or curiosity, or doing a bad job of trying not to stare at her in awe or curiosity.

"Queen Elsa will now entertain your questions and requests, but please remember that she reserves the right to refuse them without explanation," Holmboe said stiffly. He was seated at the far end of the table. "Please introduce yourselves as you ask, and keep it orderly. There will be a larger magic laboratory for you later this week, and if time permits later today, there will be an opportunity for you to observe Her Majesty working with her magic by the harbor."

"Your Majesty, I am Carol Duffin from the Kingdom of Lothian in the Western Isles, author of 'A World History of Real Magic.' May I touch one of your ice creations?" This was the historian, a woman in her late thirties and on the pretty side of average. She was as impatient as Holmboe predicted. Her ardor was entirely evident in her eyes; this was surely something she had been waiting her whole life for. Elsa was scheduled for a long meeting with her tomorrow morning.

With a barely perceptible tilt of her head, Elsa conjured eight different hand-sized snowflake ice sculptures, one for each of the guests, and levitated them to their recipients. Some of the group remained stoic; others tried to but failed; some of them were openly astounded. Duffin was the first to take hold of one. " _Real_ magic," she whispered as she stroked it with an almost religious reverence.

"Please consider them keepsakes or a sample for experimentation, if you wish," Elsa said graciously.

"It's not cold!" Duffin realized.

"I usually make them that way out of courtesy, madam," Elsa explained nonchalantly. "The cold doesn't bother me, but most people don't like to touch real ice for very long. However, if one that is freezing suits your needs better, I will oblige you."

The researchers all flinched as the sculptures became icy cold in their hands. "How did you do that?" exclaimed a man in his mid-thirties, with a neatly trimmed beard and hair as well-combed as Holmboe's was wild.

"Well, sir, the concise answer is that I thought it and willed it to be so. But exactly how and why my will, my thoughts, and my emotions physically manifest themselves is still a mystery," Elsa said with a touch of amusement. "Joule, Clapeyron, von Meyer, Ørsted, and von Helmholtz were here earlier this year; they all left weeping." It was all she could do to keep from giggling.

"Has anyone taken your temperature while you are using your magic?" asked the bearded man.

"Sir, the university's library asks those who come to study the Queen's magic to submit a copy of every paper they publish on the subject," Holmboe said. "Which is not to say that everyone has written up their experiments, findings, and theories, but I suggest checking there first. And would you please introduce yourself?"

"Many apologies, everyone. I am Dr. John Scurr from the Kingdom of Anglia in the Western Isles," he said, and nodded to Duffin. They had met on the voyage to Arendelle.

"Welcome to Arendelle, Dr. Scurr," Elsa greeted him. "I believe you are one of our new physicians and educators."

"I am, Your Majesty," he confirmed. "I look forward to treating the sick and injured and training others how to do so as well."

"Your surgical and diagnostic skills are highly praised, and we are fortunate to have you," Elsa said cordially. "As to my temperature, the measurements fluctuate greatly, even if I'm not actively using my magic. But then again, when I'm not actively using my magic, I am usually restraining it somewhat. So the theory is that I am always interacting with it."

"Are you restraining it now, Your Majesty?" asked a man about the same age and build as Rogalund. "Oh, and I am Professor Giorgio Sinibaldo from the Kingdom of Lombardy-Venetia."

"I am, Professor Sinibaldo," admitted Elsa. "I am sure you can understand that there is some level of tension when talking with strangers, no matter how often one does it. That tension in turn spurs my magic. I then prevent my magic from externalizing itself."

The visitors exchanged glances. "And how does Your Majesty do _that_?" asked Scurr.

"The concise answer is self-discipline," Elsa replied. "I try to ignore or suppress the tension in much the same way as some of you are probably doing, and keep my thoughts focused on the other tasks at hand. When the emotion is stronger, there is also something difficult to put into words. If you can imagine trying to physically hold back an emotion or a blizzard, you might understand." She was definitely _not_ going to tell them about Grand Pabbie's command that she needed to learn how to keep control without suppressing her emotions.

"Your Majesty, I am Professor Eliasz Mandelbaum, from the Congress of Poland, and this is my assistant Waclaw Kowalczyk," said a stout, clean-shaven man with grey hair sitting next to a young man who looked to be Elsa's age. "What would your magic be doing right now if you weren't restraining it?"

"Welcome to Arendelle, Professor Mandelbaum and Mr. Kowalczyk. We are glad to have you on our university's faculty," Elsa said genially. "Right now, my magic would make my surroundings cold, probably out to a distance of only nine or ten meters, since I'm not very tense. Neither do I think the feeling is strong enough to directly make frost or snow flurries, but they might happen as a natural consequence."

More glances were exchanged. "Your Majesty, could you allow us to experience this cold?" asked Duffin.

"Are you all willing? If anyone is uncertain about this, he may leave the room, and we will send for him when the demonstration is over," Elsa offered. They all signaled that they were staying put. "All right. If anyone changes his or her mind or becomes physically uncomfortable, please say so."

And then Elsa let her magic go. The drop in the temperature was almost instantaneous, and sent shivers through everyone in the room save the Snow Queen. The visitors' eyes went wide.

"Oh my," whispered Prof. Sinibaldo. "This is just 'tense'?"

"Yes, Professor, this is what my magic reflexively does when I feel tense," Elsa said.

"Your Majesty, perhaps if the others need more data, you can continue this for them during the magic laboratory, but I have had enough," Holmboe said through chattering teeth.

"As you wish," Elsa said, and just as quickly the room's temperature returned to what it had been. Professor Mandelbaum scribbled something down in a notebook.

"Did you feel-" began a balding man.

"You've been holding that-" a middle-aged man with a moustache and dark, keen eyes spoke at the same time. They stopped and looked at each other. The man with the moustache beckoned for the balding man to go first.

"Apologies. Your Majesty, I am Friedrich Homberg from the Kingdom of Prussia; I am something of a naturalist. Do you perceive temperature at all?"

"I can tell 'hotter' from 'colder,' relative to each other," Elsa said. "But neither extreme bothers me. In fact, if you attend this Saturday's magic show, you will see a new segment that I have been recently inspired to add." The sojourn in the volcano had given her a fresh idea for the spectators.

"Your Majesty, I am Professor Nicholas Newark from the Kingdom of Myrcia in the Western Isles," the man with the moustache said. Elsa maintained a polite countenance, but Myrcia was only slightly better than Weselton in her estimation, merely because they hadn't attempted to assassinate her during the debacle after coronation - but she was sure _that_ was merely because they hadn't bothered to send representatives in the first place. "Have you been holding back that cold the since this meeting began?"

Elsa smiled patiently. "Professor Newark, not only since this meeting began, and not only since this day began, but for almost my whole life. Or at least trying to."

"Your whole life?" Newark asked weakly. He seemed sincere.

"Preventing my powers from automatically doing something 'inappropriate' has become almost second nature for me," Elsa said calmly, and hoped that no one would get too fixated on the "almost" part. "I confess that attaining this level of control was not easy. What set off the Eternal Winter was panicking and losing control after I revealed my powers in public ... and then thinking that I had fled a safe enough distance away to not need to worry about hurting anyone anymore."

"Your Majesty, forgive me, but speaking of the topic of your whole life, while the broad arc of your background is well-attested by now, the details seem to be mostly conflicting rumors," said Duffin. "Now, I know that the gates of Arendelle's castle were shut when you were eight years old, and it's safe to assume that was when your powers first manifested-"

"No, madam, my powers first manifested at birth. Or even before, depending on how one interprets certain reports," Elsa corrected.

"Then why did-"

"That was when we first learned just how dangerous my powers can be," Elsa said gravely. "With the information we had at the time, isolation was the only way we knew to keep everyone, including me, safe."

The group mulled the Queen's words over in uneasy silence. A shocked look crept over Duffin's face. "They locked you in your room..." she said hoarsely.

"No, madam," Elsa corrected again. " _I_ locked myself in my room. There's a big difference."

Looks were exchanged once more, and the disquieting quiet of the room and the Queen's placid expression made Holmboe shudder even more than the preceding cold snap did.

"But Your Majesty clearly has excellent control now," Newark prompted, breaking the spell.

"Yes, sir. My powers are much easier to control when I feel positive about them and use them regularly," Elsa affirmed.

"Your Majesty, I am Father Konstantinos Papadopoulos from the Kingdom of Greece. Are you sure that you were born with your powers?" said an elderly man wearing a black cassock and skufia.

"Father, the most logical evaluation of the facts says that I was," Elsa stated. "The people present at my birth reported that I was extremely cold to the touch, and created a fine powder of snow and frosted over my bassinet all within my first few hours. The port town was also covered in ice crystals while my mother was in labor."

"Do you have any theories why you were born with magical powers, Your Majesty?" Papadopoulos asked.

"Not really, Father. Our bishop will be happy to share his thoughts about it with you - as will many other Arendellians if given half a chance and half a pint," Elsa said wryly.

"Can I meet Olaf, Your Majesty?" Papadopoulos asked.

"He will be at the magic lab, Father, but I'm sure you will encounter him in town if you linger in a well-trafficked spot long enough," Elsa suggested. "But everyone should please remember that any mistreatment or misappropriation of Olaf, whether or not he 'agrees' to it, violates the terms of your stay and is _not_ advisable for a number of reasons." They all nodded.

"Your Majesty, may we have a sample of ice that doesn't feel cold to go along with the one that does?" asked Kowalczyk very timidly.

"Certainly, Mr. Kowalczyk," Elsa answered, nailing the pronunciation perfectly. With the blink of her eye, everyone had a second ice sculpture.

"Your Majesty, why haven't you taken-" Homberg started to say.

"-over the world yet?" Elsa finished. Homberg nodded. "I would gain nothing desirable by it, Mr. Homberg. Or at least nothing desirable that isn't easier to obtain and retain peacefully and fairly."

"Our philosopher-queen," Holmboe said with a smile. "My lady and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that this room needs to be cleared for an upcoming class. Her Majesty will return to the castle for the next item on her agenda. I would like to remind you that if the day goes according to plan, there will be a practical application of Her Majesty's magic later on. I also recommend a comprehensive perusal of the papers in our library concerning the Queen's magic."

"Thank you, Professor Holmboe," said Elsa. "If you need anything clarified before the magic lab, I will try to provide you with an answer. And I hope to see you all at tonight's dinner at the castle."

The Queen stood, and everyone else rose as well. With a minimal shrug of her shoulders, the ice throne vanished. But instead of walking to the door, she turned to face the chalkboard. For the first time, the guests paid notice to what was written on it. It was a conjecture that Holmboe's previous class had been discussing: "Is there a function that is everywhere continuous but nowhere differentiable?" Of the visitors, only Mandelbaum and Sinibaldo had even the slightest understanding of the concepts.

Elsa took a piece of chalk in hand and wrote the sum from zero to infinity of [1/(2^n)]{cos[(13^n)pi*x]}. She turned back toward the table and nodded graciously to everyone before gliding to the door. One of the guards opened it for her, and they both fell in step behind her as she exited the room.

 **Author's Notes - *Trying not to give too much away, but while there will be an insane fire entity (I mean, you can't do a story like this and** ** _not_** **have one), it won't be Anna and the biggest danger to Elsa won't be the straightforward "fire vs. ice" confrontation. She is simply** ** _that_** **ridiculously powerful, going by what we see in the movie and what science shows us. I will go into more detail in upcoming chapters. I'm trying to do something that you haven't seen/read umpteen times before.**

 **And while multiple people, including Anna, will have multiple "plans" for Elsa, Anna will always mean well, from a certain point of view. Of course, there** ** _are_** **chapters titled "Your Kingdom Will Splinter" and "The Sunflower Versus The Snowflake," so the certain point of view might not necessarily be light and fluffy - or black and white.**

 **One of the things I like about the original movie is how the members of the Arendelle royal family are simultaneously in the right and in the wrong, depending on point of view and how deeply you want to think about it. It was once explained to me that the ancient Greeks' concept of drama was not "right vs. wrong" but rather "right vs. right," albeit usually with one of the "rights" more right from their particular point of view than the other. For about 83% of the original movie, there is no villain - excepting the Weselton troupe, who have minimal screentime. That concept of a conflict without a clear villain is what made the movie surprisingly satisfying, and is surprisingly hard to pull off.**

 *** Elsa finds the Weierstrass pathological function (but without the ugly, ugly proof) before Weierstrass. It was one of the first fractals, except nobody knew what fractals were or even what the graph of the function looked like until far into the future. It somewhat inspired the Koch snowflake, and is really hard to format in fanfiction.**

 **Holmboe is a tribute to the tutor of Abel, who was a very gifted Norwegian mathematician who helped make it fashionable to die from tuberculosis at a young age. Mandelbaum is a tribute to Mandelbrot.**

 *** Based on the idea that the Southern Isles kinda are Denmark without the Jutland Peninsula, the Western Isles are the British Isles with the big change that the isle of Britain is not in one piece but is many smaller islands relatively close together. Ireland is still Ireland. More explanations in due time.**


	17. Chapter 17

17\. A Skilling For Your Thoughts

Professor Holmboe stared at the sum Elsa had written and ran his hand through his tousled hair. "What a waste to put a crown on that head," he said to no one in particular.

"Were you talking with her about this before?" asked Mandelbaum.

"No," answered Holmboe. "The moment she walked through the door was, to the best of my knowledge, the first time she saw this question. And then she spent the whole meeting sitting with her back to it... Even Gauss himself currently does not think such a function is possible."

"Is she right?" asked Sinibaldo.

"I will need more time to analyze it ... but being familiar with Queen Elsa ... it's safe it assume that she is," Holmboe said slowly as he tried to work it through in his head.

"Does Her Majesty often do things like this?" wondered Scurr.

"Oh, only with certain subjects," Holmboe said with a smile. "With other matters, she is like a babe lost in the woods. We find it quite endearing."

"So you're not afraid of her?" angled Newark.

"Heavens, no," Holmboe said bluntly. "You are much safer working with Her Majesty than you are with nitrogen trichloride and hydrogen fluoride and suchlike. The Snow Queen is self-aware and communicates and cares about your well-being whereas all these impersonal chemicals and reactions obviously are not and cannot."

"Good point," Homberg allowed. "There are certain advantages to a force of nature that can reason and empathize and has self-control."

"You'll see there's nothing to worry about," Holmboe encouraged. "But now I really must ask you to make way for my students."

They filed out, putting their magic ice samples in their satchels or coat pockets, and each seemed lost in his or her own thoughts.

"Not quite what I was expecting," Papadopoulos chuckled. "But then again, I really didn't know what to expect."

"I was expecting someone a little more ... feral," said Homberg. "I guess I forgot that she was raised a princess."

"A perfectly genteel royal with the power to create, annihilate, and manipulate forms of frozen water with a mere thought, and to instantly remove and restore the thermal energy in a system at will - or by accident," remarked Newark.

"Sir, perhaps you shouldn't be here if you are that anxious," Scurr stated. He was not overly fond of Myrcia, either.

"Or that suspicious," Duffin added. She was _definitely_ not fond of Myrcia.

"I did not mean to antagonize, my fellows," Newark said placatingly. "It was merely an observation of known facts. Substantiated proof of such power is beyond astonishing, as I'm sure Miss Duffin knows better than anyone else. Now if you will excuse me, I am headed to the library to see what our predecessors have to say about the Snow Queen." He sauntered off toward the stairs.

"I am, too," said Sinibaldo. "Although now I am more interested to explore what Queen Elsa seems to know 'effortlessly.' She could possibly expand our understanding of thermodynamics not via experimentation with her magic but rather by simply asking her the right questions."

"Going to town to look for Olaf," volunteered Papadopoulos.

"Me, too," said Homberg. "I have never tracked down a free-ranging snowman before." The Prussian naturalist and Greek priest left together, striking up a conversation about the birds of the Peloponnese.

"We should see what's in the library, too, Waclaw," Mandelbaum said to his assistant. "Although I doubt I will find anything that will help me with my most pressing problem."

"Which is, sir?" Kowalczyk asked.

"How to prepare my wife for Queen Elsa's manner of dress," Mandelbaum said with a self-deprecating smile. Kowalczyk laughed into his hand.

"If you hit upon a solution, please share it with me, Prof. Mandelbaum," said Scurr said with a commiserating grin. "I would hate for Irene to make a scene at tonight's dinner."

"Gentlemen, I have a feeling your wives will handle it better than you think they will," Duffin said with a smirk. "Now, your daughters, on the other hand, might be a bit on the impressionable side."

"Oy, vey. I didn't even think of that," Mandelbaum said, eyes wide. Kowalczyk blushed slightly.

"Fortunately, Beatrice is not old enough to pick out her own outfits," Scurr said with relief. "And won't be for a long time, if her mother has anything to do about it."

"They say the first forty years of being a parent are the hardest," Duffin teased. The fathers laughed nervously.

"Come on, Waclaw. Let's see how much we can glean before the Queen does whatever is planned at the waterfront," Mandelbaum said as he nodded to Duffin and Scurr, and the Poles took their leave.

"And you?" Scurr asked Duffin.

"I am going to town to do more research on Arendelle's general history," Duffin told him, "although I would love to find some people who have been here long enough to remember Queen Elsa's birth or at least the time before the gates were shut. If she really was born with powers that strong and yet the populace didn't suspect they had a magical princess, there is obviously more to the story."

"And what eight year old has the mental and emotional capacity to make a decision about isolating herself? What kind of parents would stand for it?" mused Scurr. "My son is nine and as bright as he is, the most serious thing we let him determine for himself is what book to read."

"I hope to find out more tomorrow, but the Queen is certainly ... different," ventured Duffin. "To see so much _real_ magic on display is a dream. For years, I have traveled around the whole world in my search; and before I came here, I had seen precisely _three_ artifacts that have any kind of genuine magical powers or provenance, and only _one_ other person who has shown any evidence whatsoever of having magical powers. Only _twice_ have I strongly suspected that someone was hiding some form of real magic from me. And only a handful of reports from by-gone days that have enough backing to make me think there is even a little truth behind them."

"By the time you leave Arendelle, you'll be sick of magic," Scurr bantered.

"Doctor, I will _never_ be sick of magic," Duffin said in a mock offended tone. "Maybe sick of frauds and wild goose chases and legends with absolutely no proof, but never of real magic. So where are you off to now?"

"To town as well," he said. "I would like to meet Olaf. And I would like to hear what the locals think of their Queen overall; I am curious about what Holmboe said about Her Majesty being like 'a babe lost in the woods' in some things. Judging from what I saw this morning, I wouldn't think it possible."

They exited the building, and took the quick way down back to the old part of town. The commercial district seemed like a promising place to start, with the food stalls a top priority. Right now, finding a bite to eat was just as appealing as finding a talkative native. They stopped in front of a greengrocers' storefront, where an enticing selection of fruits and vegetables was on offer. A tall young man with sandy blond hair and a physique that suggested he made his living lifting heavy objects and had been doing so for a long time was looking over the carrots while the middle-aged shopkeeper was trying to interest him in the exotic oranges and prickly pears.

"They keep pretty well and they're very easy to eat on the go," the merchant said to the young man.

"Yes, but would Sven like them?" the young man asked.

"You'd know that better than I would. I'll tell you what, buy an orange and I'll give you one cactus fruit for free," the shopkeeper proposed. "If you and Sven like them, come back and buy more."

"Excuse me," interrupted Scurr, seeing the opening. "What does the cactus fruit taste like?"

"Oh, hello, sir," greeted the grocer. "Sorry, I didn't notice you come up. The prickly pear, as it's also known, tastes a lot like a melon. It's got small seeds throughout that you just eat along with the flesh, so if your teeth or digestion are bad, you may want to pass it."

"Well, thanks for warning _me_ , Bjarne," the young man said with a laugh.

"Kristoff, we both know there is _nothing_ wrong with your teeth or digestion. Or Sven's, for that matter," the merchant riposted with a smile.

These two were clearly at ease with each other. "I'd like to try one," said Duffin, also seeing the opening. "How much?"

"One skilling for five," Bjarne said.

Duffin reached for her money pouch but then remembered something important. "I am out of Arendellian currency. I used up what I had on Sunday and the bank wasn't open..." She looked hopefully at Scurr.

"Irene has all of ours. She took the children to do some shopping and sightseeing today," Scurr said with a wince, feeling like a fool. Their opening seemed to have closed.

"Tourists," Kristoff said with faux disdain.

"What currency do you have, ma'am?" Bjarne asked.

"Lothian shillings and pounds," Duffin said sheepishly.

"Hold on a minute, please," Bjarne said as he retreated inside his store.

"Been in town long?" Kristoff asked.

"We made port early Saturday," Duffin said. "My name is Carol, by the way."

"And I'm John," Scurr added.

"Nice to meet you. As you probably figured out, I'm Kristoff. And Bjarne there will be right back; I think he's checking his currency converter sheet. Don't feel embarrassed. This kind of thing happens all the time, and we've gotten used to it. Your currency isn't obscure, so you'll be fine," Kristoff reassured her.

"Your economy seems to be booming under Queen Elsa's rule," Scurr put forth. The opening had reappeared. "She must have quite the head for business."

"Understatements of the decade," Kristoff said with a level of amusement that was puzzling to the Western Islanders.

Bjarne resurfaced. "You're in luck, ma'am," he said as pointed out a line on a broadsheet to her. "The latest rate is five Lothian shillings for three Arendellian skillings, and that includes all fees. I'll be happy to exchange ten of your shillings even if you don't buy anything, but for any more than that you'll need to go to the bank."

"Thank you, sir," Duffin said sincerely as she rummaged through her pouch for the money. "I'll take you up on the exchange, and I'd like to try the prickly pears, one skilling for five."

Bjarne took her Lothian coins and returned with her Arendellian change and gave her her pick of the fruit. She held two of them out to Kristoff and Scurr, who took them gingerly and inspected them for spikes.

"Oh, they've been removed already," Bjarne said with slight annoyance. "What kind of establishment do you think I run? Just peel 'em like so and eat 'em. The waste bin is in the corner there."

"These are just like watermelon," Scurr remarked with pleasant surprise.

"And in a convenient package," Bjarne encouraged. "These come all the way from Spain, along with the oranges, courtesy of Queen Elsa's ice."

"So I take it you don't mind her magic powers," Scurr said nonchalantly as he finished the juicy fruit.

Bjarne exchanged a look with Kristoff. "Considering that her magic ice is what gets a lot of our imported produce here with little to no spoilage-"

"Well, look at the city boy, out of bed before noon!" an affectionately boisterous voice interrupted.

They all turned to see who spoke, and Kristoff grinned broadly at two men with builds not unlike his own, one of them about Kristoff's age and the other seemed to be a little older than Bjarne. "I'm shocked they let you two in town without a chaperone, Einar."

Scurr and Duffin looked at each other, then at the newcomers. The more, the merrier.

"Blame it on the open gate policy," the older of the two men jested as he walked up to look at Bjarne's stock.

"I'm surprised they don't close the gates when they see you coming," Kristoff chuckled.

"They run away when they see us coming," quipped Einar. "Those city boys are too soft. There needs to be more mountain boys like Dag in the ranks." The last sentence was said with an oddly serious tone, considering Einar's previous jovial mood. The younger man next to Einar looked at his feet.

"So what are you doing in town? Checking on Åsa?" asked Kristoff.

"That and dropping off a load. One of our last big ones before it gets too stormy for shipping and too cold for the townsfolk to need ice," Einar replied.

"Wait, you're ice harvesters?" Scurr asked incredulously.

"At your service, sir," said Einar, doffing his cap.

"What on earth does Arendelle need ice harvesters for? Your Queen can create it by the ton in an instant!" Scurr exclaimed.

Kristoff, Einar, and Bjarne exchanged bemused looks. The older men shrugged and let Kristoff handle the lesson.

"Because she would put a lot of people immediately out of work if she did that," Kristoff explained patiently.

"But Bjarne just said that Queen Elsa's ice is used to bring in fruit from far away," Duffin pointed out.

"That's special ice, ice that's cold but never melts, and it isn't for sale to the general public. It's available only by special dispensation-" Kristoff said.

"Overseen by the Royal Ice Master and Deliverer!" Einar broke in. Kristoff shot him a displeased look. He actually didn't mind interacting with tourists when they didn't know who he was. Anna likewise relished the chance to not be "the Princess," if only for a few minutes. He was sure Elsa would feel the same way if she ever had the unlikely opportunity to pull it off.

"-and usually reserved for our merchant and fishing fleets," Kristoff continued. "We use it to bring in perishable food and ship out fish and natural ice, and we are contracted by other countries to import and export their goods that need to be kept cool. There's no sense in trying to steal it because the Queen makes the ice so that if it ever leaves the ship, it vanishes. Plus, there's currently still a market for natural ice because some people, especially from foreign countries, aren't too sure about the safety of consuming her magic meltable ice."

"The Queen is that thoughtful?" Scurr asked, quietly impressed.

"Even better," Einar interjected. "She's told us that our days harvesting ice are numbered anyhow. That some mad scientist has already made ice using some kind of mechanical gadget and that it won't be too long before there's no need for us, with or without her magic. So she's offered all of us and our families a chance to learn a new trade or two at that university up on the hill. Pays our way, even gives us a living expenses stipend while we're at it. I don't know where she finds the money."

"It's from the royalties she gets for the use of her magic ice," Kristoff said.

"Well, that's even nicer of her, then," Einar praised. "My daughter Åsa is studying there right now. And this old dog might try to learn a new trick that's easier on my back and knees. I'd like to get this blockhead to join me in going there this winter." Einar gave Dag an encouraging nudge.

"I don't know, Einar," Dag said self-consciously. "I've never been to a real school..."

"Tut," Einar consoled him. "Neither have I. Neither had Åsa or a lot of the other mountain folk going there. Besides, there's a better chance of seeing Queen Elsa again if you're in town than if you stay out on a frozen lake."

Dag turned a shade of red that would have made the beets in Bjarne's shop green with envy. "Oh, hush, Einar!" he pleaded helplessly.

"We saw _her_ last night, you know," Einar proudly told everyone. "Riding some kind of snow-horse over the mountains. Literally _over_ the mountains."

Scurr and Duffin looked at each other again.

"Really?" asked Kristoff with perfectly convincing skepticism. He made a mental note to tell Elsa that she might want to be a little more discreet the next time she took a night ride to or from the Valley of the Living Rock. The trolls valued their privacy, and it wouldn't do for the Snow Queen to draw attention to their location.

"Yes, really," Einar rebutted. "Dag was ready to ask her to stay for dinner, but the lady was in a hurry."

"Einar, please, please be quiet," Dag implored, wishing he could dig a hole and hide in it. "I just never saw anything like that before..."

"All right, lad. Fair enough," Einar relented. Dag was like son to him. It was one thing to mortify the young man when they were amongst their fellow ice harvesters, but quite another to do it in the presence of strangers. "The rest of us were bedazzled, too. I must admit that the Snow Queen has been responsible for all of the unbelievable things I've ever been caught up in."

"Have you seen much of her magic?" Duffin asked, hoping that she had found an eyewitness to one of Elsa's early displays.

"Not as much as some that live here in town," Einar admitted, staring hard at Kristoff. "I saw her riding last night; and of course the Winter In July and the Great Thaw last year; and whatever that blizzard was when she was born."

"What blizzard when she was born?" Duffin asked casually, but inwardly she was whooping.

"I don't know what it was like here in town, but out in the country it was like the snow was ... dancing," Einar said, clearly still in awe. "The flurries would swirl, and the individual flakes would spin, but none of it ever seemed to stay on the ground for long. The wind would pick it back up. And there was this weird light to it. At the time, we thought it was from the aurora borealis that was peeking through the clouds. Then, the snow just stopped and _everything_ was coated with ice crystals and frost. The clouds suddenly rolled out and all that was left was the aurora, the biggest I've ever seen, stretched across the whole night sky, shining on the ice. The ice and frost were gone by dawn."

"Whoa," gasped Scurr and Duffin. Even though Kristoff and Dag had heard the tale before, they also couldn't help listening raptly.

"It was just like that here in town, too," corroborated Bjarne with a faraway look. "Not long after the ice and frost appeared, they rang the church bells to announce the birth of the King's grandchild. We were all making jokes about a royal baby being born on the Winter Solstice during the most unusual blizzard and the biggest aurora that anyone could remember."

"So you suspected all along that Queen Elsa was magical?" Duffin asked.

"Oh, no, ma'am. It was just joking about the portents for the future. Nobody thought the baby had or would have the power to control ice and snow," Bjarne clarified. "Although I guess most of us who remember that day wrapped our minds around it quicker than some of the others did when her powers finally cut loose."

"Yeah, some of the younger ice harvesters -not Dag, by the way- were gibbering idiots for about a week after the Winter and Great Thaw," Einar recalled. "Of course, some of that could have been fear of being put out of business. But then we found out she was on our side, so we don't worry or think too hard about it. No offense meant to present company, but it's the city folk, especially the foreigners, who are the ones who need fancy explanations and smelling salts. Us mountain folk and old-timers know that sometimes it's best to just accept and respect nature rather than trying to discover all its secrets or thinking it can be brought to heel."

"So I guess there's no point in asking you where the Queen's powers come from," Scurr said bashfully.

"Eh, I personally think she's a nature spirit," Einar said with a shrug. "But now don't go asking me 'What's a nature spirit? Where do nature spirits come from? How did a nature spirit get in a human body?' You can turn it into questions all the way down. We've got to have starting points that we just take to be true."

"The Queen calls them 'axioms' and 'postulates,' " Kristoff reflected and immediately regretted it as Duffin and Scurr gave him their complete attention.

"You've heard the Queen talk about mathematics?" Scurr asked.

"Well, not very often, and it usually goes way over my head when she does," Kristoff said, trying to sound very off-hand and hoping hard that his stint as an anonymous local was not about to come to an abrupt end. Einar was looking at him very mischievously.

"Einar, I hate to break up this conversation," Dag interjected while holding Kristoff's gaze, "but Åsa should be getting out of class soon. And we still need to buy our supplies." Kristoff nodded thankfully to him.

"Right you are, lad," Einar said; the mention of his daughter's name brought the purpose of his visit to town back into focus. They picked out their produce, including some prickly pears on the recommendation of Duffin, Scurr, and Kristoff.

"The total comes to seven skillings, gents," said Bjarne.

Duffin immediately handed over the money. The Arendellians looked at her in surprise. "I'd like to thank you. You have been very patient with us," she said humbly.

"It's not necessary, ma'am," said Einar. "It was just talking."

"I insist," she said firmly. "You were very informative."

"Well, thank you, ma'am," Einar said gratefully. "Maybe we'll meet at the Harvest Festival, and I can bend your ear some more."

"I'd like that very much," Duffin said sincerely, recognizing a rich source of local lore, magic or mundane, when she saw one. She turned to Kristoff. "I'm sorry I only have two skillings left, so I'll have to make it up to you after I go to the bank."

"Please don't worry about it, ma'am," Kristoff said.

"Yes, don't worry about it," Einar said with a devious smile as he shouldered the bag with his provisions. "The Royal Ice Master and Deliverer there gets paid a fine salary, with a lot of perks on the side. Come on, Dag, let's be off."

Dag gave Kristoff a sympathetic look, and then doffed his cap to the visitors and Bjarne. The two walked off down the lane.

"The Royal Ice Master and Deliverer?" asked Duffin, astounded. "You're _that_ Kristoff?"


	18. Chapter 18

18\. The Natives Are Restless

"He's _that_ Kristoff," Bjarne confirmed with a grin.

"I'm really not that exciting," Kristoff said modestly, trying to head off the usual requests for autographs.

"Most people would disagree," said Duffin, shaking her head. "But I guess we should properly introduce ourselves, since we'll probably be meeting tonight at dinner anyway. I'm Carol Duffin, historian of magic."

"I'm Dr. John Scurr, recently hired by Arendelle's university and health care system," Scurr said, holding out his hand. Kristoff shook it gently.

"I hope we haven't scared you off. Our sense of humor is an acquired taste," Kristoff apologized.

"Quite the contrary," said Scurr with a smile. "So far I've found Arendelle to be refreshing and friendly."

"Yes, everyone has been very welcoming and helpful," Duffin added.

"That's good. We're still pretty new at being a tourist destination," Kristoff admitted.

"How do your fellow-" Scurr began to say but was cut off by a loud crash and several thuds followed by the sound of something made of metal, probably a soup pot, rolling on the cobblestones.

"Sorry! So sorry! I'll get it!" rang out a very familiar young woman's voice, coming from one of the nearby cross streets.

"Oh, no!" gasped Kristoff. "Listen, if you want to continue this conversation, we have to get out of here. Because I have to get out of here!"

"What's wrong?" Duffin asked, confused.

"Princess Anna is in the general vicinity," Bjarne deadpanned.

"I'll be back later, Bjarne. And if she asks, you haven't seen me," Kristoff begged, heading in the direction away from the crash. He would race across heaving sea ice during a hurricane of snow for her any time, but shopping with her was a different matter entirely.

"My lips are sealed," Bjarne said with a wink and a wave.

"Why do you want to get away from Princess Anna?" Duffin asked, confused, but following Kristoff.

"Because she is shopping for a dress with one of her friends," Kristoff explained.

"Time for evasive maneuvers!" Scurr agreed and matched Kristoff's pace.

"What's so bad about that?" Duffin asked, confused, but keeping up.

"They are going to ask if it makes them look fat," Kristoff said as he navigated a turn down another lane lined with shops.

"Ah, the question that has plagued man since women's fashion was invented," Duffin quipped. "Where are we going? Would it be near the bank?"

"I was going back to the stables, which probably isn't the sort of place you'd want to see, but I can swing you by the bank on the way," said Kristoff as he made a sharp left turn.

"So how do your fellow Arendellians like being a tourist destination?" Scurr recovered his train of thought now that the danger had passed.

"Most of us like the positives enough to put up with the negatives," Kristoff allowed, slowing to normal walking speed. "And we're still finding ways to reduce the negatives. Queen Elsa and some of her advisers are pretty good at problem solving."

"So we've heard," Scurr said with a chuckle. "It's one the reasons I took the job. I look forward to working with a government that actually wants to improve the people's lives and advance the frontiers of medical science."

"You'll fit in just fine, then," Kristoff said as he came to a halt in front of the bank. "Well, I'll see you tonight at dinner. Finding your way around really isn't that hard, but if you get lost just ask someone or look for one of the map placards at certain corners."

"Thank you, Master Bjorgman," Duffin said. "And we won't say anything to Princess Anna about our little emergency exit."

"You'll understand once you meet her," Kristoff said fondly. "She's an amazing person and everybody loves her, but she can be a disaster area when she's out shopping. Good-bye!"

Duffin and Scurr waved to the Ice Master as he strode off. "I begin to wonder which member of Arendelle's royal family is the more dangerous," Scurr remarked dryly.

"I'm sure they take turns," Duffin said with a sly smile and made for the bank's door. Scurr followed her in.

If they had lingered outside a mere one minute longer, they would have met up with Scurr's wife, Irene, and two children, seven-year-old Beatrice and nine-year-old Adam; and Professor Mandelbaum's wife, Debora, and eighteen-year-old daughter, Zlata. They were quickly becoming friends, and had joined up on an excursion to shop for more household goods for their extended stay and to get better acquainted with the port town.

"And there's the bank," Irene noted. "The funds are still holding up, so we don't need to stop in yet."

A little beyond the bank, the lane widened invitingly. The brightly colored signs and flags decorating the shops could not help but attract attention. Young Beatrice and Adam stared entranced at the picturesque buildings and vivid logos.

"What's this, then?" Debora queried. They all took slow steps toward the lane, as if hesitant to enter this strange new world while simultaneously being compelled to by a feeling they could not name.

They stopped before an immaculate storefront with large windows. The shop's sign proudly displayed Arendelle's royal crest: a gold crocus on a split field of purple and green. To their surprise, the lettering was in the Disnee language as well as the local Arendellian. It read: "The Royal Gift Shop." They looked around and saw that the other signs were also in Disnee.

As if on cue, all the merchants stepped out of their doors in unison and gathered around the prospective clients. The shopkeepers paired off and began to dance and sing, each couple taking a line, while they all joined in the chorus verses:

 _There is cheese to be sampled._

 _Snow globes to be bought._

 _If you want a novelty, then_

 _You've come to the right spot._

 _And if you have the budget for magical ice_

 _Just open up your wallet, don't think twice._

 _We're here to help you find_

 _The perfect souvenir. We'll pack it nice and neat,_

 _But if you change your mind,_

 _There are no returns without the receipt._

 _We have dolls of Princess Anna,_

 _But we've sold out of the Queen._

 _We hope to get more in before_

 _Your daughter turns sixteen._

 _Don't buy one in Weselton at a lower price,_

 _The crooks there don't sell licensed merchandise._

 _If you have buyer's remorse_

 _About the trinket that's a little too offbeat,_

 _Don't fret; you have some recourse_

 _But only if you have saved the receipt._

 _You got gifts for your neighbors_

 _And your friends on your splurge._

 _You don't know why; it was_

 _Like a primal urge._

 _We understand it fully, and to be blunt_

 _We made it so you feel the thrill of the hunt._

 _We hope you come again next year._

 _We'll share a laugh and the reunion will be sweet_

 _If you are worried, have no fear:_

 _It's the one return you can make without a receipt!_

With that, the merchants casually went back into their respective stores. The Scurrs and the Mandelbaums stared at each other in complete bafflement, unsure if what they had witnessed was part of a well-choreographed routine developed for the entertainment of the tourists or one of those zany, spontaneous moments that make traveling so utterly fascinating. They giggled, turned back to the Royal Gift Shop and peered in a window - and then saw _them._

Glittering in the window were the most marvelous sculptures any of them had ever seen, the crystal refracting the light at the edges. One was of a sailing ship so expertly done they could almost feel the wind and the sea spray; all the rigging was extraordinarily detailed and perfectly scaled, down to the finest rope and smallest pulley. Another was of Arendelle's distinctive castle, again an exact, flawless replica. Another was of a mountain, standing alone and tall, very steep on one side and slightly curved on the other, giving it a vaguely fang-like point. They could see others inside the shop. They _had to_ go in.

Upon entering, they immediately turned to the sculptures in the window exhibit and on nearby shelves. Young Beatrice was immediately drawn to one of a cheerful snowman riding a happy reindeer in a field of wildflowers, while Adam was amused by one of the same snowman and reindeer sprawled out on a tropical beach, lounging on realistically textured sand beside a grove of coconut palms. Zlata's breath was taken away by a waterfall, the cascade's flow captured with exquisite artistry, flanked by evergreens and willows. Debora gaped at a large one of the whole of Arendelle town, complete with sheer cliffs as a backdrop, ships approaching the harbor, and people in the streets going about their business.

"Who makes all these?" Irene whispered as she picked up the one of the mountain in the window case. It was pleasantly cool to the touch and smooth beyond description. She looked at the bottom of the base and saw the inscription in elegant handwriting: "Snow Queen Elsa of Arendelle." There was a snowflake emblem preceding it and a crocus figure at the end. "The Queen's magic ice!"

A practical application of Elsa's ice was on display at the docks, in use as a temporary seawall, jetty, and scaffolding, but this put everything in a new perspective.

"Yes, ma'am," said a woman behind a counter. "Her Majesty has a knack for it. Most of what you'll find in here was made by the Queen. All proceeds go to our schools and clinics."

Irene, sensing that she would be in need of her husband's medical skills if she looked at the price tag, carefully returned the miniature mountain to its position in the window case. "Adam, put that down before you break it!"

The woman behind the counter chuckled. "Don't worry, ma'am. They're all unbreakable. You can drop them from any height, throw them, hit them with a hammer, take a saw or axe to them, put them in a fire or boiling water, and they'll be fine. None of the scientists that come to test Queen Elsa have found anything so far that can damage them."

The group gawked at the sculptures in even more awe than before. Out of curiosity, Debora checked the price tag of the scale model of Arendelle, and did a quick mental calculation. "Hmm, once I get back into giving lessons regularly, this should only come to about three days' pay..." she mused.

"More are being shown at the castle's courtyard; most of them will make their way here when space there runs out," the shopkeeper informed her.

"Oh, can we go there next, mama?" Beatrice asked.

"May I point out some of our other offerings? We have ice-fabric capes, some footwear made of ice -in case you've always wanted Cinderella's glass slipper look or ice skates made from ice- snow globes, optical devices, dolls, chess sets, a few pieces of jewelry, and various decorative and functional household goods," the shopkeeper said helpfully, gesturing to the items as she spoke.

"Queen Elsa can make all of that?" Adam questioned.

The woman chuckled again. "Young sir, there isn't much Her Majesty can't make. If you're still here on Saturday, I highly recommend watching the Queen's magic show."

Irene and Debora shared a look, wondering if working in Arendelle would pay for these temptations that were a byproduct of living in Arendelle. Zlata had already wandered over to the table that had the "optical devices."

"A very good choice, young lady," said the shopkeeper. "Those are our best sellers."

Zlata picked up something that looked like a short, stout monocular made of ice, and walked over to one of the windows to give it a try. She held it up to her eye and exclaimed, "Oh, mother, we simply must get one of these for father and Waclaw! This is fantastic!"

"Actually, young lady, if you turn the wheel by the eyepiece, you may get even better results," the shopkeeper hinted. Zlata did as suggested.

"Oh, mother, we _must_ get one for Jakub, too! The wheel changes the focus. Come see for yourself," Zlata said as she held out the spyglass for her mother.

Debora took it and looked through it, adjusting the dial. "Oh, my heavens! How did the Queen make this?" Debora asked as she inspected it.

"Magic, ma'am," said the shopkeeper with an understanding smile. "Her Majesty has mentioned something about lenses and prisms, but it's all beyond me. They are also unbreakable and unmeltable; no one has succeeded in taking one apart yet."

"Can I look, mama?" Beatrice asked.

"Certainly, my dear," Irene said. "And then let your brother look, too."

The young children were flabbergasted. "Please, can we get one, mama?" implored Adam, holding it out for her to try.

Irene had to admit the clarity and power of the ice-glass far surpassed any other she had ever looked through. And the utility, even for landlubbers, of such a thing was obvious. She risked a look at the price tag. "Oh!" she said in pleasant surprise. "This is quite a bit less than a real spyglass - not that this isn't real, mind you. I mean one made of glass and metal."

"They are military surplus," the shopkeeper informed her. "Although the usual production costs don't apply to the things Queen Elsa makes, anyway; it's just that we ended up with more of them than our armed forces needed. We also have binoculars and some medium strength -by Her Majesty's standards- telescopes."

"I'll take one," said Debora. "And I'll come back with Eliasz and Waclaw, because I'm sure they will want to check out the telescopes."

"I'll take one, too," said Irene. "It's a tool and a diversion in one package. We'll probably end up getting one for each family member, but let's start with one."

"Thank you, mama!" Adam and Beatrice chorused.

"You'll have to share for now. If I hear any fighting about it, I'll throw it in the fjord," Irene threatened without really meaning it.

"They float," the shopkeeper cautioned.

"Of course they would," Irene said with a shake of her head.

The families handed over the money; the shopkeeper handed over their receipts, which the adults made sure to stow securely. Then shopkeeper attached neck cords made of ice fabric to the monoculars, and put them in pouches with shoulder straps, also made of ice fabric. "Quite the deluxe package," Zlata declared.

"That's just the way Her Majesty does things," the shopkeeper replied matter-of-factly. "Good day to you."

"And to you," Debora said as they went through the door. "But I suspect we'll be back before too long."

"Only our first business day here not spent unpacking, shopping for food essentials, and recovering from our voyage, and we've already bought trinkets," Irene observed with a laugh as they strolled off.

"It's for a good cause, Mrs. Scurr," Debora rejoined. "Probably helps pay our husbands' salaries. From our pockets into theirs..."

Adam had taken the monocular out and was using it to look around. "Ooh, this would be even better if I could get someplace up high!"

"Don't you even think about climbing anything, young man! Put it back in the pouch and give it to me," Irene instructed. Adam looked a bit crestfallen but obeyed without protest.

"Can we go see the other sculptures in the courtyard now, please?" asked Beatrice.

"I suppose, dear, but we need to think about getting a bite to eat as well," Irene said. Hungry children were often grumpy children. "Let's look for a snack vendor on the way."

They made their way to the waterfront, or at least thought they were until they realized they were headed more toward the center of the commercial district. They stopped and scanned the area to get their bearings - and were nearly bowled over by a young lady walking backwards while talking excitedly to a similarly-aged woman. The one who had bumped into them had strawberry blonde hair in two tight braids and was wearing a green skirt, straw-colored blouse, and an open, snug-fitting black vest, all beautifully embroidered with the rosmaling favored by the natives; her friend had honey blonde hair in a simple ponytail and was wearing a much more plain dark grey skirt and vest over a white blouse.

"Sorry! So sorry! Are you all right?" asked the redhead. "I should have been looking where I was going."

"We're fine," Debora told her. "We shouldn't have stopped in the middle of the street."

"Oh, but that's more normal around here than walking backwards," the redhead insisted. "All the visitors make a wrong turn at least once, which isn't to say that the locals don't make wrong turns, too, sometimes, because Arendelle does kind of sprawl and go up and down and we don't have a nice neat grid and-"

"What can we help you find?" her blonde friend interrupted.

"Just the waterfront," Irene said. "And I'm pretty sure it's that way. We wanted to find something quick and easy to eat and then head to the castle courtyard to look at the ice sculptures."

"Dagmar and Arvid's sandwich shop is just the place. We'll take you," the redhead offered.

"Thank you, but we don't want to be a bother. If you could tell-" Debora started.

"I almost knocked you over. I have to do something to make it up to you," the redhead maintained.

"Usually, apologizing is sufficient," Debora explained.

"Yes, usually," the blonde friend deadpanned. From her tone, the Scurrs and the Mandelbaums had the feeling that the redhead frequently reacted this way and that resistance was futile.

"Stefanie, you know that Dagmar and Arvid's place is off the main street. It's simpler to take them there than to tell them how to get there," the redhead contended.

"True enough," acknowledged Stefanie, and gave the group a good-natured but resigned look.

"Come on, then, let's go!" the redhead said happily, bounding off.

"Just roll with it," Stefanie told them. "It really is a good sandwich shop."

Somehow, the families trusted the blonde's judgment, both on the quality of the eatery and the general prudence of the venture.

"How long have you been in town?" the redhead asked Zlata as she lead them down a side street.

"Since Saturday," Zlata replied shyly.

"Will you still be here on Friday for the start of the Harvest Festival?" the redhead asked as she made a right turn.

"Yes," Zlata replied even more shyly. She wasn't sure how to tell this almost intimidatingly friendly person that her father worked at the university and that while they were new to Arendelle, they weren't tourists.

"It's going to be so much fun!" the redhead gushed. "There's going to be food, crafts, games, music, and dancing; and a big magic show and ball at the castle on Saturday. I can get you tickets for the magic show, but I don't think I can get you into the ball. Everybody is welcome to hang out in the courtyard, though. It usually turns into a better party than the one inside the castle."

"Now you tell me," Stefanie said drolly.

"You have to go; you've already picked out the gown," the redhead teased back and came to stop in front of a narrow storefront. "Ladies and gentleman, this is the place." She opened the door.

"Are we going in?" asked Stefanie.

"Well, yeah. We have to show them the way to the courtyard, too," the redhead stated.

"Are you sure you-" Stefanie began.

"Of course I'm sure," the redhead said adamantly.

"We really don't want to be a bother," Debora repeated. "I'm sure we can find the waterfront."

"I'm going that direction anyway," the redhead reassured her. She held the door open and gestured everybody else inside before entering herself and shutting the door.

"Hello, Princess Anna!" greeted the woman behind the counter, presumably Dagmar. "What a wonderful surprise!"

"How nice to see you, Princess Anna!" chirped the man, most likely Arvid.

" _Princess Anna?!_ " said the Scurrs and the Mandelbaums in unison.

 **Author's Note - I warned you there might be singing, and I would kinda like feedback on how well you think song interludes work within the overall feel of the rest of the story. "The Gift Shop Song" is meant to be sung in the style of the old Shaker hymn "Simple Gifts" by Elder Joseph Brackett. It's not an exact match, meter-wise, so you'll have to elide or add in some notes. Probably the best Youtube version for this particular setting is the one by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.**

 **I'll be appropriating some public domain folk and classical tunes, some Broadway numbers, some Gen X chestnuts, and even some so-called "epic music."**


	19. Chapter 19

19\. Royal Lunch

"Wow, I just blew my cover, didn't I?" Anna mused.

"You were doing so well. That's why I asked you if you were going in," Stefanie chided with a grin.

"I couldn't figure out why you asked. But to be fair, my cover usually gets blown within the first thirty steps. I'm not used to having to maintain it for so long," Anna rationalized.

" _Princess Anna?!_ " the Scurrs and Mandelbaums again said in unison. The womenfolk, including young Beatrice, curtsied and Adam gave his best bow.

"Please don't do that," Anna said politely. "Only if it's some formal occasion at the castle, and sometimes not even then."

"Many apologies, Your Highness, for not recognizing you," Debora said contritely.

Anna laughed. "It's not as though I'm walking around wearing a tiara and have a footman holding the train of my cloak. I don't expect visitors to know me on sight, and I don't stand out visually like Elsa - I mean, Queen Elsa."

"Well, thank you for taking the time to show us around, Your Highness," Irene said sincerely.

Anna laughed some more. "Since it's kinda my job to be a good hostess in general, and Stefanie is one of our official tour guides, it's no trouble at all."

"So who wants a sandwich?" Dagmar asked brightly.

"We have our local open-faced variety and the closed type," Arvid said, pointing to the menu above the counter. "And of course we can also make combinations that aren't listed."

"I want the 'Princess Anna'!" Adam said gleefully once he saw the name.

Irene quickly scanned the description. "No," she said emphatically. "You are going to the state dinner tonight, even if it is just the children's room, and this sandwich is too much food for you, anyway. It has four layers!"

"You're going to the dinner tonight?" Anna asked.

"Oh, uh, yes," said Irene. "I guess I just blew our cover, too. My husband is a doctor who was just hired to work in your clinics and teach. I am Irene Scurr, and my husband's name is John. And these are Adam and Beatrice."

"And my husband will be teaching physics and engineering, as well as studying the Queen's magic," Debora explained. "We are the Mandelbaums: Eliasz, Debora, and Zlata."

"That's wonderful!" Anna declared. "I'll have somebody normal to talk with tonight. I mean, not that the other people attending aren't normal, but that there will be somebody to talk with about normal stuff. Not that the other people can't talk about normal stuff, but when you get a whole room full of scientists and priests and diplomats and then throw in my sister on top of that, the conversations can get really weird in a hurry."

Debora had to chuckle. "Sounds like fun."

"Oh, it is. At least afterward, even if I didn't understand most of it," Anna agreed. "Although sometimes the discussion gets a little too heated. Fortunately, the Queen is pretty good at cooling things off."

"She's been waiting three weeks to use that joke again," Stefanie informed them.

"Timing is everything," Anna quipped.

"I would like to try the 'Queen Elsa,' " Zlata said quietly. The aroma of the fresh breads reminded her just how hungry she was.

"An excellent traditional selection, young lady," approved Arvid.

The rest of the newcomers to Arendelle read the ingredients: sliced smoked salmon on the local rye bread, topped with Dagmar's special dill sauce and sautéed asparagus spears.

"That sounds very good," Debora had to admit.

"The Queen probably really did eat something like that for lunch," Anna said with a smirk. "She's not the most adventurous diner in the world."

"I want the 'Olaf,' " Beatrice bubbled.

"That's an ice cream sandwich, dear," said Irene patiently. "Dessert is not lunch."

"We make a very nice grilled sandwich using Jarlsberg cheese on your choice of bread," Dagmar advised. "Combining that with a side of 'Sven's Slaw' has proven very popular with children."

Irene saw that "Sven's Slaw" was shredded carrots and apples with a honey and apple cider vinegar dressing.

"Done," Irene said gratefully. "Three of them, please, on rye."

"And we'll take two 'Queen Elsas', please," Debora said.

Dagmar and Arvid snapped into action and in short order handed over some very attractive sandwiches. The Scurrs and the Mandelbaums sat down at the tables and tucked in. Anna and Stefanie sat down with them.

"So you have already found a job at such a young age?" Zlata haltingly asked Stefanie in between cutting bites from her sandwich.

"Yes, but it's just temporary while I go to the university," Stefanie said modestly. "I'm really not sure what I want to do yet, but it is a rare opportunity to be able to study so many different things."

"And even rarer for women. Arendelle is very enlightened to allow women into higher education," Debora complimented. "That's one of the reasons my husband took the offer, so that Zlata could study the sciences, get a real degree, and maybe find work here instead of having to learn in secret and then never be able to use her knowledge. Queen Elsa is brave and farsighted."

"Queen Elsa is all about people using their brains," Stefanie said, getting in a subtle jab at Anna. Stefanie very much sided with Elsa about Anna's need for further studies; Anna pretended to ignore her.

"Well, my sister said it would be really strange for her to found a school but then forbid women to attend," Anna told them.

"That has not stopped others, Your Highness," Debora said wistfully.

The families finished their meals and returned the plates and silverware to the counter as Dagmar totaled the bills. "Please charge it to my account, Dagmar," said Anna.

"Oh, no, please, Your Highness! You don't need to," Irene insisted. "You'll be feeding us tonight. And we have our own money."

"Consider it a perk that goes with your husbands' jobs," Anna said sincerely.

"No, please, you don't understand, Your Highness. Mrs. Mandelbaum and I really do have our own money. I am a midwife, and she gives private music, dance, and art lessons," Irene explained as she and Debora handed over some coins to Dagmar. "We both intend to work while we're in Arendelle, too."

"Ooh, sign me up right away!" Anna exclaimed before she realized how it could be interpreted. "I mean, for Mrs. Mandelbaum's lessons. I don't need a midwife, because ... you know. But whenever I do, I'll be sure to call for you."

Irene and Debora shared a smile. They hadn't had many encounters with royalty, but they could tell that Princess Anna was far from the norm.

"It will be a great honor to have the Princess of Arendelle as a student, but I still need to find the right building or at least the right room and a piano," Debora said.

"Oh, just come to the castle," Anna said nonchalantly. "We have a ball room and a few pianos."

"Uh, Princess Anna, you may want to check with the Queen first," Stefanie cautioned.

"Elsa would never say that I can't take music or dancing lessons. The gates are open now. And we have more than enough space," Anna contended.

"Well, yes, Your Highness, but sometimes the Queen uses the rooms you're talking about," Stefanie reminded her.

"No big deal. We'll work around her," Anna said with certainty.

"I still must find something for students who don't have your resources, but for the time being, thank you for the offer, Your Highness," Debora said.

"Speaking of the castle, let's get you to the courtyard," Anna said as she stood up. The others followed suit. "We'll be seeing you, Dagmar, Arvid."

The restaurateurs waved at them as they left the building. "Come again any time, Princess!" Dagmar said.

Anna began pointing out certain landmarks and businesses of note to her new friends. "And coming up ahead is the flower market."

"Looks like Olaf is holding court," Stefanie said fondly. And indeed, even if the hovering snow flurry didn't give his location away, the cluster of laughing people would have.

The Scurr children's eyes grew wide in anticipation. "Mama, can we meet Olaf? Please?" Beatrice entreated.

"Only if Princess Anna says we can," Irene said, not really sure about the protocol involved.

" _Of course_ they can meet Olaf," Anna said with a laugh and lead the group forward.

"What does a snowman put on his _kjøttkaker_?" Olaf was saying to two men, one of which was wearing a black robe-like garment and a black hat.

"What are _kjøttkaker_?" asked the other man, who was balding.

"They're like meatballs, except they are more flat. Thick meat patties, if you will," said Charlotte, a woman who worked at the flower market and who was well-acquainted with Anna and Olaf.

"Thank you. All right, Olaf, what does a snowman put on his _kjøttkaker_?" asked the balding man.

"Chilly sauce!" said Olaf with a giggle.

The crowd giggled along or groaned playfully, while the two foreign men looked at each other, speechless.

"Did you make up that joke by yourself, Olaf?" asked the man in the black robe.

"Um, I think so, Father Papadopoulos," Olaf pondered. "But we all pun like snowbody's business, so I could have heard something like it before. Oh, hi there, Anna and Stefanie!"

"Hello again, Princess Anna and Miss Rask!" said Charlotte, and the rest of the Arendellians around Olaf also acknowledged their Princess and her friend with informal waves or nods. The two foreign men, however, bowed deeply to Anna.

"Princess Anna, it's an honor to meet you," said the balding man.

"Greetings, Your Highness," said the man in the black robe.

"They're here to study Elsa's magic," Olaf disclosed. "That one is Mr. Homberg, and that one is Father Papadopoulos. They're very nice."

"Welcome to Arendelle," Anna said, trying to muster her sense of decorum. This type of thing came much more naturally to the Queen; and in many ways, being the subject of scientific curiosity and religious debates was far more disturbing for Anna than it was for Elsa. "I hope your stay has been pleasant and interesting so far."

"Very much so, Your Highness," said Homberg "As a naturalist, I find myself intrigued not only by the Queen's magic, but by Arendelle in general. The setting here is breathtaking."

"Yes, Princess," Papadopoulos concurred. "The views are lovely; the people are friendly; the magic is amazing."

"And these people are...?" prompted Olaf, gesturing to the rest of the group who had arrived with Anna.

"Oh, yes! These are Debora and Zlata Mandelbaum; and Irene, Beatrice, and Adam Scurr," Anna said, quietly proud that she had remembered everyone's name correctly.

"I take it you are related to Professor Mandelbaum and Dr. Scurr," deduced Papadopoulos. "We met them this morning at our table discussion with the Queen."

"We all survived just fine, if you were wondering," Homberg said dryly.

"Yes, they are our husbands, and I'm pleased to meet you," said Debora.

"Likewise," said Irene.

Throughout all of this Beatrice and Adam were transfixed by Olaf. A living, walking, talking snowman!

"Can we give you a hug?" asked Adam more than a little bashfully.

"Absolutely!" chortled Olaf, and toddled forward with his stick arms outstretched. The youngsters joined him in an embrace that lasted several moments, as everybody present looked on with tender expressions. When they broke apart, the children shook the snow from Olaf's flurry off their shoulders and hair.

"Olaf, would you melt without your flurry?" asked Homberg. "Queen Elsa is able to make ice that doesn't melt."

"At the beginning, I needed my flurry if it was above freezing, but then Elsa fixed that once she figured out how," Olaf replied.

"Why do you still have your flurry, then?" questioned Homberg.

"Because I like it and wanted to keep it," Olaf said simply. "And Sven likes it, too."

"Would that be Sven the reindeer?" enquired Homberg.

"Yes," answered Olaf.

"So Arendelle also has a reindeer that can communicate," noted Homberg, casting a glance at Papadopoulos.

"Truly, this is a land of wonders," the priest said.

"Sven doesn't use words," Anna clarified. "But he can usually get his message across with facial expressions, body language, and miming. Kristoff - I mean Ice Master Bjorgman is the best at interpreting what Sven means, but pretty much everybody can do it if you can accept that an animal is trying to tell you something."

"Oh, I can more than accept that concept, Your Highness," said Homberg. "I have written a book on my observations of animal intelligence, and will soon have enough material to write a second. Princess Anna, would it be possible for me to meet Sven?"

"We're taking the Scurrs and the Mandelbaums to see the courtyard anyway, so I don't see why not," Anna said. "We'll try to get Ice Master Bjorgman's permission first, though. He said he was going back to the stables, so he should be easy to find."

"Goodbye, everybody," Olaf said to the crowd at the flower market. They all waved affectionately at him as he walked off with Anna, Stefanie, and the expanding group of foreigners. "Let's go find Sven and Kristoff!"

Anna and Stefanie turned on to the causeway that connected the castle to the rest of the waterfront. "I must say, Your Highness, that your forebears certainly did have an eye for dramatic locations," said Homberg as he took in the view.

Anna had to laugh. "Yeah, it's not such a bad spot. But for a really dramatic location, you need to see the Ice Palace."

They reached the front gates, and the guards bowed slightly to Anna as she lead her charges into the courtyard. The ice sculptures glinted in the sun, and Beatrice rushed up to the nearest one.

"Is this the Ice Palace, Princess Anna?" Beatrice asked.

"Yes, that's a replica," Anna said. "Oh, she made this one with the doors open. If you look inside the main doors, you can see the fountain and the stairs; and if you look inside the balcony doors, you can see the chandelier."

They all crowded around, taking turns doing as Anna suggested. "And yes, she got all the fine details just right," Stefanie told them. "In a way, what Queen Elsa can do on the small scale is even more impressive than what she does on a grand scale."

"This is amazing," whispered Papadopoulos. "How many stories does the real one have?"

"Just two," Stefanie answered.

"All this structure for only two stories?" Papadopoulos asked incredulously.

"If you get to know my sister better, you'll understand," Anna said softly, with perhaps a touch of sadness. The priest nodded and decided to let the matter rest for now.

"Who is that with Sven?" asked Adam, looking at the next sculpture. It showed the reindeer towing a sled with a muscular man in the driver's seat and a load of ice blocks in the rear.

"That's Kristoff," Anna said warmly. "Speaking of which, the stables are over here, if anybody besides Mr. Homberg wants to come."

"Oh, can we, mama?" asked Beatrice. "We can come back to these on the way out."

"Certainly, if Princess Anna thinks it's all right," Irene said.

"Sven loves children. Kristoff - I mean Ice Master Bjorgman does too, once you look past his gruff exterior," Anna confided, leading them forward.

As they drew near, Irene saw her husband and the historian, Miss Duffin, that they had met on the voyage to Arendelle talking with a man who could only be the Ice Master.

"Kristoff!" Anna called to get her boyfriend's attention. "Can these people meet Sven?"

"Fancy meeting you here, Dr. Scurr," Irene said playfully.

Before John could reply, Olaf pushed through the crowd and introduced himself, as was his wont. "Hi, I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"

Scurr and Duffin could only gape at the snowman. Of course, they had read about him and had witnessed a brief demonstration of the Snow Queen's magic earlier in the day, but none of it quite prepared them for Olaf, live and in person.

"You really exist!" Duffin managed to say when she got her heartbeat somewhat under control.

"And he really does like warm hugs," Adam added.

"Well, in that case," said Scurr, feeling a bit giddy and very curious, "I guess a warm hug is in order." He knelt and wrapped his arms around Olaf - and felt something he could not describe. On one hand, it was definitely snow, and he had the idea that he could push the carrot nose all the way through Olaf's head, but at the same time, there was an unreal firmness to the snowman, a physical cohesion that defied everything he knew about nature. He laughed in nervous astonishment. "Ice that's not cold; snow that's loose but holds together."

"There, there," said Olaf as he did his best to get his stick arms around the adult's trunk; hugging children was so much easier. "You'll get used to it. Even Princess Anna kicked my head off the first time we met."

"Well, you did kinda pop up unexpectedly, and we were all a little edgy because of the whole Eternal Winter thing," Anna said with mock defensiveness.

Duffin and Scurr snapped to attention, eyes widening. " _Princess Anna?!_ " they chorused. Duffin curtsied, and Scurr bowed.

"I swear, I'm gonna make you wear a tiara with your name on it," grumbled Stefanie. "I know you enjoy passing yourself off as a regular Arendelle citizen for as long as you can, but then it's even worse once the people find out."

"The hero of the Eternal Winter," Duffin breathed in awe.

"Not really," said Anna modestly. "I just did one thing right after doing almost everything else wrong."

"You turned to ice and then came back," Scurr said hoarsely.

"Yeah, there's a nice article about my take on my, uh, 'experience' in the university library. So please read that first before you ask any questions," Anna said with surprising brusqueness. She could tell happy anecdotes over and over, but really did _not_ like repeating that particular painful story. Fortunately, the document in the library usually answered everybody's questions, and the researchers more or less left that topic alone when they talked with her.

"So who wanted to see Sven?" asked Kristoff, trying to steer the conversation away from a subject that he knew would make Anna and himself uncomfortable.

"I did," said the Prussian. "I'm Homberg, by the way. I'm a naturalist. I understand that your reindeer is skilled at nonverbal communication."

"Well, sometimes it's hard to tell what he's trying to say," Kristoff said, uncertain about the man's intentions. He really didn't want to speak "for" Sven in front of a bunch of people, especially academic types, that he had just met.

"Oh, Kristoff," Anna sighed. "If you couldn't tell that Sven was miming that Olaf was in trouble, you're clueless. Mr. Homberg is interested in animal intelligence."

"All right, then. He's in his stall," said Kristoff, somewhat warily. He wasn't sure he wanted a bunch of people, especially academic types, that he had just met judging Sven's intelligence. He led them to Sven's door. "Hey, buddy, you want to come out? You have visitors."

Sven immediately broke out of his doze and pricked up his ears. He rose to his feet and walked out to see who it was. Upon inspecting the assembly, he gave a questioning look to Kristoff. "I don't know who everybody is. They just got here," Kristoff explained. "These two are Dr. John Scurr and Miss Carol Duffin, and that fellow over there is Mr. Homberg."

Sven then turned to Olaf, Anna, and Stefanie with the same inquisitive expression. "Ah, this is Father Papadopoulos. These two are Debora and Zlata Mandelbaum. And those three are Irene, Adam, and Beatrice Scurr," Anna filled in the blanks for him.

Sven nodded very politely to all of them and discreetly sniffed to see if any of them had brought carrots. They hadn't, although three of them had eaten carrots very recently.

"Clear signs of intelligence," said Homberg, much impressed.

Sven puffed out his chest and cocked his head at Homberg, as if to acknowledge the man's discernment. Kristoff unconsciously lifted his chin proudly. Anna, Adam, and Beatrice could barely stifle their laughter.

"Sven is the most intelligent real animal in Arendelle. Even more intelligent than most humans," came a wisp of a voice from the stall next to Sven's. Sleipnir came forward and stuck his head out of his stable door.

"Kyrie eleison!" exclaimed Papadopoulos as everybody except Olaf and Sven jumped back at Sleipnir's sudden appearance and commentary.


	20. Chapter 20

20\. Signs and Wonders

"That h-h-horse t-t-talked," Homberg stammered.

"That's a snow-horse," Duffin said, reduced to pointing out the obvious.

"That's Sleipnir," said Anna, recovering her poise. It would never do to let the guests remain gibbering idiots in front of a creature that already considered them to be gibbering idiots. "He's kind of a show-off."

"Just being what I am, Princess," Sleipnir whispered, making sure the sibilance in "princess" had a slightly menacing tone. He was in a playful mood; the ride back from the trolls' valley had been stimulating.

"Fair enough," Anna conceded, not wanting to make waves right now. "And moving back to the ice sc-"

"There was no mention of a snow-horse in any of the-" Homberg broke in.

"He's a relatively recent addition," Anna interrupted right back. "And moving back to the ice sculp-"

"The Queen can create life so easily?" Homberg interjected.

"You should ask her about that. She makes it look effortless, although I have no idea what goes on behind the scenes," Anna deflected. "But believe me, she doesn't take that part of her powers lightly. And moving back to the ice sculptures-"

"It is said that during the Great Thaw the flowers sprang back to life; and the trees that had lost their leaves immediately put forth new foliage; and the grass was still as green as before the snow covered it," Papadopoulos said with hushed awe.

Anna sighed and gave in. "It's true. Our grain and vegetable crops were as unaffected as the grass and flowers. And the fruit trees blossomed again right away, and the fruit grew so quickly that everything turned out fine by harvest time."

"But she is the Snow Queen and not the, uh, Vegetation Queen, correct?" Papadopoulos dared to ask.

"I think she can only undo the effects of her magic, and under normal conditions can't make plants more vigorous than usual, if that's what you're getting at," Kristoff chipped in.

"Has she ... tried?" Papadopoulos queried a bit sheepishly.

"You would have to ask her or look at the write-ups in the library," Kristoff replied. "I supply natural ice if the researchers request it, but otherwise I don't get too involved with the experimental stuff."

"It's just that I personally would not associate having control over the cold with the ability to create living beings, even if they are made from snow, and yet she obviously can do that," the priest expounded. "So some of my colleagues back home and I wonder if she could have other powers waiting to be discovered. I hope to have a nice chat tonight with Arendelle's bishop."

"So you aren't going to accuse her of being a witch or a demon or at least a pagan?" Anna asked, trying to take his measure. More than one theologian had first arrived in town ready to pounce.

"Gracious, no, Your Highness. The Bible, and indeed all of the sacred texts of other religions that I am aware of, are filled with extremely holy people performing miracles, so 'magic' is not exclusively from the realm of evil. 'And the LORD said unto Moses, See I have made thee a god to Pharaoh...' " Papadopoulos quoted.

" '...And I will harden Pharaoh's heart, and multiply My signs and My wonders in the land of Egypt,' " continued Debora quietly. " 'But Pharaoh shall not hearken unto you, that I may lay My hand upon Egypt, and bring forth Mine armies, and My people the children of Israel, out of the land of Egypt by great judgments.' "

"And obviously not all of the miracles performed by the extremely holy people were pleasant," Homberg pronounced somberly.

"My sister did not set off a plague! The Eternal Winter was an accident, and once she figured out how to undo it, she undid it right away! And she has never claimed to be a prophet or have any kind of divine power!" Anna said vehemently.

"We are not suggesting otherwise, Your Highness," the priest said gently. "Merely that 'magic' or 'miracles' -whatever one wishes to call the phenomena- cannot be lumped into a single category. Therefore I am not so quick to judge and begin the name-calling.

"I also fail to see the wisdom of antagonizing someone who could pelt me with an infinite supply of snowballs; even the most good-natured person can only take so much provocation," Papadopoulos added with a smile.

" _Another_ human who understands his place in the natural order," Sleipnir said in his thin undertone, and again everyone jumped except Sven and Olaf. "This is a rare day."

"Why couldn't she have made you with a voice that at least matches your body?" Anna was compelled to complain.

"I would have no other voice, even if Elsa offered to change it," susurrated Sleipnir proudly. "I'm not just saying that to annoy you."

"Uh, Sleipnir, sir," Papadopoulos began, uncertain how to address the snow-horse, "have you ever wanted Queen Elsa to change anything about you?"

"No, I am happy being perfect," Sleipnir admitted.

"Of course," Papadopoulos concurred. "What about you, Olaf?"

"Sometimes I want to have more color," Olaf said. "Elsa turned me green one time and purple another time, but we all agreed that it looked wrong. After that, she gave me some scarves and a few hats so I can put color on when I want to - and she gave me these funky-looking rocks so I can switch out my coal buttons."

For the first time, Homberg properly took note of the rocks from the volcano that ran down Olaf's body segments. "May I have a closer look at one of those, Olaf?" the naturalist asked.

"Sure thing," said Olaf as he plucked one off and handed it over. He reached into Sven's stall where he had stored the bag with his regular buttons and the obsidian, and began to put his coal back on. Homberg painstakingly scrutinized the rock from the volcano's inner wall.

"You say Queen Elsa gave you this?" the Prussian asked, his curiosity piqued.

Anna and Kristoff looked at each other, sensing that the conversation was heading in the wrong direction. Fortunately, Anna was positioned behind Homberg, and began subtly but urgently shaking her head at Olaf and making similar gestures with her hands. Unfortunately, her actions were plainly visible to Dr. Scurr, Duffin, and the Mandelbaums.

"Yeah. Nice, isn't it? Sparkly, colorful crystals," Olaf said, still quite thrilled with the present.

"Do you know where she got it from?" Homberg asked, by now deeply intrigued by the rock.

"Y-" Olaf broke off, finally noticing Anna's motions. "Um, no, I don't, now that I think about it."

"Hmm. Something to ask Her Majesty about later, then," Homberg said distractedly. "May I see the others, Olaf?"

"Here you go," said Olaf as he handed over the bag.

"Is this the same fabric as Queen Elsa's dress?" Homberg asked as he ran his fingers over the material.

"Yes," Anna cut in, hoping to guide the questions away from the rocks and their place of origin. "It might be a little heavier and coarser, but it's ice-fabric."

"Amazing. It's like silk," Homberg said appreciatively. He fished into the bag, and pulled out one of the obsidian pieces. He whistled. "Did the Queen give you this one, too?"

"Yup," said Olaf, quite pleased about the attention his rocks were getting.

Homberg put the obsidian back in and removed another one from the volcano wall. "I wish I had my magnifying glass handy."

"Wait a minute," Olaf told him and went back into Sven's stall, reemerging with a magnifier that was clearly made by the Snow Queen. "Try this one."

Upon testing it, Homberg momentarily lost interest in the rocks and found himself newly fixated on the ice-lens. "How-" he started.

"Magic," Kristoff answered patiently.

"The Queen makes things like this, too," Irene said as she handed Homberg her monocular.

"The dial by the eye end changes the focus," Beatrice added.

Homberg selected several targets, laughing with astonishment. "Where-"

"The Royal Gift Shop," Anna answered patiently. "We also have binoculars and small telescopes. Although I'm sure the Queen will give you some for free. She made a few microscopes for some scientists earlier this year, too."

"Your Highness, I would gladly pay a small fortune for field glasses of this quality, with this adjustable focus, as would every other person who delights in observing the natural world. This changes everything!" Homberg broke into a clumsy jig. Olaf joined in, understanding pure joy when he saw it.

"Mama, we can give Mr. Homberg ours if he wants it," Adam suggested.

"No, no, no! I'll not hear of it, dear boy," Homberg said resolutely. "All I want is to find this Royal Gift Shop. They can take my money!"

"Come on," said Olaf eagerly. "I'll show you!" He waddled back toward the gates, with Sven, Homberg, and Papadopoulos in tow. Duffin and Scurr fell in step behind them.

Anna and Kristoff shared another quick glance, silently determining that Olaf's conversations with these people probably needed to be monitored until they could explain the need to keep any information that might lead to the discovery of the trolls a secret, and joined the parade. The rest of the Scurr family and the Mandelbaums tagged along because the chance to interact with so many of Arendelle's celebrities was too good to pass up.

Up in the castle, Elsa smiled as she watched the group's antics from a window until they filed out through the gates. She couldn't understand everything that she had seen, but judging from Homberg's reaction to the monocular, she had an inkling they were going off to get one for him.

She continued her way from the family dining room to her study, not entirely looking forward to the pile of documents awaiting her there. She would have preferred to get started sifting through them at lunch, but she knew how much the castle staff disapproved of it when she worked during meals. Quite frankly, it baffled her; when she ate alone, she didn't see any difference between doing it in the dining room or her study. But since Gerda and Kai and so many of the other employees had a strong opinion on the matter, she was willing to indulge them.

Elsa settled in her chair and grabbed the topmost papers: the latest projections for Arendelle's harvest yields, the latest projections for visitors to Arendelle in the upcoming winter and early spring seasons, the latest prices and surplus reports on several food commodities from nearby trade partners, and the balance of Arendelle's food purchases from earlier in the year. The Queen commenced with the serious analysis of one of the most pressing problems created by the boom in tourism and diplomatic missions in Arendelle. Since the country's agricultural output in some staples was just barely above self-sufficient for the citizens, feeding all the guests was something of a logistical headache, especially with winter and early spring storms making sea travel risky. And the case of a crop like wheat, which Arendelle could not grow enough of to meet even the natives' needs, was much more troublesome.

She estimated the probabilities of the various projections being correct, and then did some calculations. Then she did another set of calculations, assuming a worst case scenario for all the variables. Finally, she hacked out a third set, assuming everything went for the best. Elsa wrote down the numbers in a table format, and a few notes along side them, and sat back to think about the options and consequences.

After careful consideration, she came to a conclusion and rang the bell to summon Kai. A few moments later, the major domo knocked and entered at Elsa's bidding. "You rang, Your Majesty?" he politely enquired.

"Inform the purchasing agents that we could use one thousand bushels of wheat; right now, Anglia, France, and Corona have reasonable prices and the surpluses to fill the order," Elsa said. "Also, we need five hundred bushels each of barley and oats; Lothian and Anglia have the surplus. And ask them to acquire however many casks of butter, bushels of root vegetables, and wheels of cheese they have room for on the ships. This is probably our last window of decent weather to get the ships out and back before the storms roll in."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Kai said.

"Just like doing the household shopping for the week," Elsa said dryly. "Only a lot more so. Arendelle will never be forced to subsist on _surströmming_ during the winter as long as I'm the Queen." The mere thought of that putrid fish was almost enough to bring Elsa's lunch back up.

"The country thanks you for that, ma'am," Kai said, shuddering at the mention of the fermented horror whose importation was banned by a royal decree. "I assume you foresee a busy winter."

"Actually, I foresee being price-gouged at trade negotiations next spring, now that everybody knows we have extra mouths to feed. I'd rather buy a surplus now at a price that isn't too appalling than need to scramble next year when the first crowds arrive. Besides, it's not like it's going to spoil," Elsa added with a smirk. Olaf's carrot nose and stick arms weren't the only things she could preserve indefinitely.

"Very good, Your Majesty," the overseer said deferentially. "I don't know how the other countries cope without monarchs as useful and thoughtful as you."

"From what I hear from the various delegations that pass through here, many of them don't cope," Elsa said solemnly. "Their rulers either can't understand the problems or can't find solutions to the problems. I often wonder why they weren't prepared better to govern."

"Your Majesty, if it isn't being too bold to say so, you did have the luxury of the kind of education and intellectual encouragement that is available to few others, no matter how rich and powerful the family," Kai pointed out.

"I suppose you're right. Father had high standards and didn't stint in that regard," Elsa said pensively.

"It was the only way he had to dote on you, my Queen," Kai replied softly.

"Now _that_ is being too bold," Elsa said sternly.

"I apologize, Your Majesty," Kai said, bowing. "Was there anything else?"

"How are the final preparations for the Harvest Festival going?" Elsa asked.

"Smoothly, it seems, Your Majesty," Kai told her. "At some point on Thursday, the foundry workers will want to go over the specifics for the new part of your magic show that your memorandum asked me to tell them about. And the choir master will probably want your presence at the final rehearsal early on Saturday morning."

"How is Princess Anna coming with the ball-" Elsa was interrupted by the chime that announced the arrival of an expected visitor to the castle. "Speaking of the foundry..."

"Most likely it is, Your Majesty. Please remember that they have worked very hard to make the things you are going to break," Kai mock scolded.

"It's in the name of science. And I promise to make it look like I'm trying really hard when I snap their steel like a twig," Elsa quipped. "Hopefully these samples will have the properties we need. I realize this is still a trial-and-error process, but all of these 'back to the drawing board' failures have put us behind schedule on the harbor renovation."

"But we are learning a lot in the meantime, Your Majesty," Kai proposed as he held the study's door open for the Queen.

"Certainly. I expect most of the formulations that haven't passed the tests to find an application elsewhere," Elsa allowed as she and the handler exited the room and made their way down to the front parlor where a messenger from the foundry was indeed waiting for them.

He was young, probably a new apprentice and quite possibly from an ice-harvesting family - and completely taken aback by the presence of the Queen. "Your Majesty," he said quickly, bowing awkwardly but earnestly.

"Good day, sir," Elsa acknowledged graciously. The youth stood silently for a few moments, having temporarily forgotten his purpose.

"Was there something you wanted to tell Her Majesty?" Kai prompted gently.

"Oh, yes, sir," the young man said, snapping out of his reverie. "Master Torvik from the foundry is ready for you at the waterfront, Your Majesty."

"Thank you for informing us," Kai said. "Please tell Master Torvik that Her Majesty will arrive shortly."

"I shall, sir," the messenger said. He bowed awkwardly again to the Queen and nearly hit the door frame on his way out.

"I guess I really should let you take care of all the front parlor meetings by yourself," Elsa said with a sigh.

"It _is_ part of my job, Your Majesty," Kai said with a reassuring smile. "And I am happy to do it." Kai definitely did not miss the days of sporadic by-invitation-only visitors to the castle.

Two guards deployed themselves as the Queen's escorts as she and Kai passed through the gates. It was more for show than protection or crowd control, since Elsa was more than capable of handling threats and general unruliness by herself. When they neared the end of the causeway, Kai bowed to his monarch as he went in the direction of the warehouses and purchasing agents to deliver the Queen's orders.

Elsa continued down to the waterfront proper. The men from the foundry were standing by some long metal rods, a pile of chain, and what looked like a large, squat box and two cylinders made from ice resting on the ground. A crowd was beginning to gather around them. A free small-scale magic show was still a free magic show.

The craftsmen bowed to the Queen as she approached. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said to them. "Did you send a runner to the university to let the researchers know you are ready to begin?" They were a taciturn lot, which didn't bother Elsa in the slightest, and Master Torvik merely nodded to her. "Could you send another messenger to the Royal Gift Shop? I suspect the other half of our special guests are still there." Again, Torvik merely nodded. He looked at the young man who had come to the castle and gave a slight toss of his head in the Gift Shop's direction. The youth sped off as though he were delivering news of an impending invasion.

It wasn't too much longer before Mandelbaum, Kowalczyk, Newark, and Sinibaldo made their appearance, accompanied by just about everybody from the new part of town who could find an excuse to come along once they heard the Queen was going to use her magic: Minister Rogalund; the Daloans; the Khentiians; most of the ambassadors to Arendelle and some of their personnel; most of the university faculty, with Professor Holmboe in the lead; many students, with Åsa among them; and Einar firmly gripping Dag by the arm.

Torvik mumbled something under his breath.

A few more moments passed, and Anna, Kristoff, and the rest of their party showed up - followed by almost every merchant who could step away from his or her store, all the shoppers, several tour groups, _and_ the Minister of Tourism himself, Frode Haugen, who rarely missed any public display of magic.

"Why don't we just send out an engraved invitation to everyone in the entire kingdom next time?" Torvik grumbled. It was bad enough when the Snow Queen destroyed weeks' worth of brain-storming, trouble-shooting, and physical labor with no one else looking on. All these people just increased the frustration.

As if on cue, most of the town's children came running out of the side streets. A quick glance toward the castle revealed much of the staff and many of the guards lining the balconies, with monoculars at the ready. Torvik buried his face in his hands.

Anna pushed through the growing multitude, leading her flock forward. Einar glimpsed the top of Kristoff's head and, since he never was the most reserved person, dragged Åsa and Dag along as well. They all finally broke through to the front row, and Irene and Debora and their children laid their eyes on the Queen of Arendelle for the first time.

 **Author's notes - Surströmming is a fermented fish product that is apparently infamously vile. There's a Youtube video titled "Dog Tries Surströmming Swedish Fermented Herring *Warning*" (no bad language, but graphic vomitting) uploaded by trummismalin that gives a pretty good indication of what it smells like - and dogs don't exaggerate. There are other videos like "Americans Try Surströmming (The Smelliest Food In The Word)" by BuzzFeed that go into more detail, with quite a bit of bad language, which is probably justified, and wretching. I could totally see Elsa banning it as a biological weapon.**

 **I base the characters' discussion of the Great Thaw on what was clearly shown in the movie. The crocuses definitely bounced right back. The grass showed no sign of frostbite or any other damage either during the Great Thaw proper or in the aftermath when the foreign dignitaries were sailing out. And around about 1:19:51 in the movie there's a few seconds where a deciduous tree can be seen with bright green leaves (in the upper left hand corner of the screen) as the snow is lifting off the rooftops, despite all of the broadleaf trees being shown with bare branches during the Eternal Winter; while this is possibly an animation error, certainly by the time the dignitaries are leaving and Anna is giving Kristoff the new sled, all the trees in town had leaves again. So it makes sense to infer -especially with this being a Disney movie and all- that there was No Endor Holocaust from the Eternal Winter. Also, I don't think the citizens would have been so happy at the Skate Party Ending if Elsa had just wiped out all the crops and they were going to have to eat surströmming or go broke importing food in order to survive the natural winter. Like I said, Elsa is ridiculously powerful; at her level in the movie, she's like at least five out of six Infinity Gems strong - and her power will only grow. But we're going to roll with it.**


	21. Chapter 21

21\. Breaking Big Things For Science

Anna's offhand comment about not standing out visually like her sister and the stories about the Snow Queen's sartorial decisions had not sufficiently prepared Mrs. Mandelbaum and Mrs. Scurr for actually seeing her. The ice-dress left nothing about Elsa's rather enviable figure to the imagination, and there was more bare leg on display than even the most shameless women of ill-repute would dare to show in public.

"How can she go out among people with that slit in that dress?" Irene murmured disapprovingly and tried to cover Adam's and Beatrice's eyes; John made embarrassed shushing noises.

"Where are her stockings?" Debora whispered in shock.

"Mother, Princess Anna is _standing right here_!" Zlata reminded, _sotto voce_.

"Don't worry," Anna said, keeping her voice low. "I won't judge."

The two women looked down in chagrin. In the brief time that they had known her, they had come to like the Princess and saw that she was a genuinely caring and good-hearted person. They knew they should be willing to tolerate the Queen's quirks, especially since most of the townsfolk and many foreign high-ranking diplomats had turned out for this materials test and nobody else seemed to be the least bit offended or titillated by the young woman's attire. They decided to save their criticism for later.

Elsa, for her part, acted completely unfazed by the crowd as she gestured for the visiting magic researchers to take up positions that would presumably give them the best view. She rolled her shoulders and flexed her fingers as Master Torvik called out to his assistants, "An ultimate tensile strength test on Rod Sample 24, Specimen 1." One of the men readied a notebook and pencil.

The metalworkers got out of the Queen's way as she walked over to the steel rods. "You can lift steel, Your Majesty?" the priest asked.

"Not directly, Father Papadopoulos," Elsa explained. "First I need to attach some ice to the steel, and then I levitate the ice."

"What if the ice comes off, Your Majesty?" Newark wondered somewhat uneasily.

"Professor Newark, when I attach ice to something, it doesn't come off unless I say so," Elsa declared, making no attempt to keep the mischievous satisfaction out of her voice. Anna, Kristoff, Stefanie, and many of the other Arendellians present shared an impish laugh about some memory or other. Newark smiled weakly.

A small ball of ice formed at each end of one of the rods - and then suddenly the rod was floating at hip height. Elsa walked with it toward the temporary ice seawall, and it seemed that she would fall into the water below, but just as she was about to step into thin air, a plank of ice leading out into the harbor grew out of the ice seawall.

"She's showing off a little bit," Anna told her new friends after they gasped.

The plank extended with each step until Elsa was about four meters out from the seawall. Professors Mandelbaum, Newark, and Sinibaldo also came forward, crouched down by the edge of the seawall, and peered underneath the plank to see what was supporting it. The unsurprising answer was: Nothing.

Elsa rotated the rod until it was vertical. "Applying force now," she said.

Everyone watched excitedly, but nothing could be detected by the naked eye. "Yield at 627,422,913 kilograms per meter per second squared," Elsa stated. Torvik actually smiled and pumped his fists, and his senior assistants cheered; the man with the notebook wrote the number down quickly. Mandelbaum, Newark, and Sinibaldo looked at each other in amazement.

Then, the steel rod snapped into two pieces. The crowd gasped again. "Ultimate tensile strength at 827,370,875 kilograms per meter per second squared," Elsa said and gave Torvik a thumbs up. The man with notebook wrote down that number as well.

While remaining on the plank, Elsa conjured more ice on the ends of the other two rods and levitated them above the center of the crowd. Everyone craned his or her neck to watch the performance. "Yield at 627,423,011 on Specimen 2; yield at 627,422,889 on Specimen 3," Elsa reported, and waited for the numbers to be written.

One of the rods snapped. "Ultimate tensile strength at 827,371,213 on Specimen 2." The last rod snapped. "Ultimate tensile strength at 827,369,911 on Specimen 3." The numbers were recorded. "Rod Sample 24 is approved for use!"

Torvik raised his arms high above his head in triumph and tilted his face to the sky. All the onlookers were a welcome addition now that he and his crew had finally succeeded in meeting the Queen's specifications.

As happy as the foundry men were, the professors were stunned. "You can use your ice to apply that much pressure, Your Majesty?" queried Sinibaldo, dismayed by the implications.

"Professor Sinibaldo, as far as can be determined, I can apply an arbitrary amount of pressure in tension, in shear, or in compression," Elsa said with an adorable smile. She knew full well why they were disturbed. For people whose thoughts tended in the direction of practical military applications, exercises such as this one and the weekly magic shows were just as much thinly veiled demonstrations of her capabilities in warfare as they were entertainment or experiments; the Queen of Arendelle wanted the rest of the world to understand that peaceful coexistence with her and her country really was the best choice. She floated the snapped rods over to the researchers' eye level, giving them time to examine and feel the fractured steel before depositing the pieces in a stack close to Torvik. She then dissipated the ice.

"Queen Elsa, while I don't doubt your numbers are correct, _how_ do you know how much force you applied?" posed Mandelbaum.

Elsa's demeanor became much less smug. "I don't know how I know, Professor Mandelbaum, but I just do. When it has been possible to compare my internal tensometer with a scientific instrument's measurements, there has been a close agreement. I hope I don't lose accuracy when working at the high end of the scale. My intention is to make this harbor state of the art far into the next century."

"Your Majesty, while steel this strong is mind-boggling and will obviously be highly sought after, why not just leave your harbor's infrastructure made of ice, as it is right now?" questioned Newark.

Elsa became even more sober. "The issue of ontological inertia. Will my 'permanent' magical creations survive my death? My intuition and the current academic consensus are that they will, but there is no way to be sure ... and if I am wrong, the consequences would be catastrophic if we rely too much on my ice to build things."

"I see," Newark said quietly. The other spectators close enough to hear and old enough to comprehend fidgeted uncomfortably. Anna, Kristoff, Stefanie, Dr. Scurr, Homberg and Papadopoulos cast contemplative looks at Olaf.

"Snow Queen Elsa, can you do more magic?" Beatrice asked with innocent shyness. Her parents cringed.

"Of course," Elsa said with good humor. "Let's break some chains."

Torvik's exuberance about the results of the tensile strength test immediately left him. "A minimum breaking load test for Chain Sample 33, Specimen 1," he said tersely to the man with the notebook.

Elsa walked back over to the pile of chain, attached a small ball of ice to one end of it, and sent the ice ball up into the air to uncoil the length -roughly three meters- and attached another ball of ice to the end closest to the ground. The Snow Queen walked it back out onto the ice plank and rotated it until it was parallel with the water.

"Uh, Queen Elsa, you probably shouldn't stand that close during this test," Newark cautioned.

"Thank you for the warning, sir. If I were anyone else, you would be correct," Elsa answered evenly.

Newark, Sinibaldo, and Mandelbaum took several steps back until they were close to the front row of the main crowd. The Minister of Tourism gave them a cocky smile as he stepped to the edge of the seawall. "There's nothing to worry about. Safety comes first with the Queen's magic," Haugen said firmly.

"That's not true, but it is in the top five," Elsa deadpanned. Many of the long-time residents laughed into their hands. The professors shared uncertain glances.

The chain drew taut, and tauter yet, and then it snapped, the ends whipping chaotically - or at least they would have if they hadn't been instantly caught in two floating stalagmites of ice; even the flying pieces of the link that broke were captured by a jagged mitt of ice.

"Whoa!" Duffin exclaimed.

"How charming," Newark remarked bleakly to no one in particular.

"Just Her Majesty's reflexes in action," Haugen asserted.

"Breaking load was 8,046 kilograms," Elsa told Torvik. The master smith grunted and looked dejected. "I'll try the other two specimens, but I don't think this sample is going to pass."

As before with the rods, Elsa levitated the other two chains above the crowd so that everyone could see. They broke in succession, and each was immediately encased in a tube of ice before the ends could lash back. "Breaking load on Specimen 2 was 8,105 kilograms. And 7,989 kilograms for Specimen 3. They'll be good for something, but not for overhead lifting." Torvik kicked at the ground. Elsa floated the chains back to where they came from and annihilated the ice. The pieces of the broken links clattered to the cobblestones once freed.

"If it's not some kind of state secret, Your Majesty, how much do you want these chains to lift?" asked Sinibaldo very meekly.

"More than is realistic," griped Torvik.

Elsa ignored Torvik's comment, forgiving his bad mood. "A breaking load of 22,000 kilograms would be nice, Professor Sinibaldo."

Sinibaldo, Newark, and Mandelbaum sputtered. "You see, the Queen demands the impossible," Torvik lamented.

"You thought the rod would be impossible, too, Master Torvik, but you did it," Elsa pointed out.

"It took twenty-four tries!" Torvik whined.

"Which is nothing in the grand scheme of things, sir," Elsa encouraged. "You're going to be world renowned - and well-rewarded." Putting it in that perspective brightened Torvik's outlook.

"If it's not some kind of state secret, Your Majesty, why do you want a chain to lift 22,000 kilograms?" asked Sinibaldo even more meekly.

"Oh, I don't want it to lift 22,000 kilograms, Professor. I want it to lift about 5,000 kilograms, but I want it to do so by a wide margin that accounts for many risk factors. Safety really is first," Elsa explained.

"A chain that lifts 8,000-" began Torvik hot-headedly.

"Master Torvik, these chains will end up being used by you and your fellows and your sons," Elsa interrupted calmly. "And undoubtedly by other people, in Arendelle and around the world. Would you and our potential customers rather have one that is more than four times as strong or one that isn't even twice as strong?"

"Point well taken, Your Majesty," allowed Torvik, his agitation subdued.

"Very good, sir," Elsa said serenely. "Please, on to the next test."

"Impact test on Steel Reinforced Concrete Wall, Sample 3," Torvik said. Elsa walked over to the box made of ice, and disposed of the form with a flick of her wrist, leaving behind a substantial piece of concrete.

"Ever since we arrived in Arendelle, I've been curious about what was in those," Newark said. He had seen people along the waterfront using the box and the cylinders as impromptu seating.

With a wave of her hand, she attached three small patches of ice to the top. The concrete levitated without the slightest wobble.

"How big is that?" Mandelbaum wanted to know.

"It's six meters by five meters by three-quarters of a meter," Torvik said.

"How much does it weigh, Master Torvik?" Duffin asked, completely captivated by the suspended slab. Seeing the rods and chains float in midair was impressive enough, but this was something no human could hope to budge without mechanical aid.

"Around 55,000 kilograms, ma'am," Torvik casually informed her, and then waited to see everyone's reaction. All of the spectators within earshot, even Princess Anna and Sven the reindeer, gurgled or squeaked in shock. With a skip in her step, Elsa guided the piece of masonry out over the water as though it were nothing more than a balloon.

"How can you lift that much, Your Majesty?" Duffin blurted when she finally found her voice again.

"I focus on the ice. Whatever happens to be stuck to it just comes along for the ride," Elsa clarified. "I don't feel the weight, only the ice."

The Snow Queen maneuvered the wall so that the tallest dimension was perpendicular to the horizon and then lowered it halfway into the water. With a snap of her fingers, an elongated iceberg, streamlined in the manner of a sailing ship, appeared in the water next to the wall. The spectators tensed, expecting a high-speed, head-on collision, but Elsa only slowly brushed the iceberg against the wall at an oblique angle. The wall held up quite well. There were moans of disappointment from the crowd.

"Come on, people," Torvik growled. "We're testing for _realistic_ conditions. Well, I guess 'realistic' is a subjective term in this kingdom. But anyway, the layout of the harbor wouldn't permit a 900 ton vessel to accidentally smash into a wall at anywhere close to its maximum speed. And if it's a hostile ship, they'd be using their guns, now wouldn't they?"

This did nothing to mollify the gallery.

"Who wants to see the wall get smashed to pieces?" Elsa shouted. Most of the adults in the assembly and all of the children cheered. Torvik covered his eyes with the palm of his hand. For some reason, the Queen was treating this materials test like one of her Saturday magic shows, and he wished she wouldn't.

She lifted the wall out of the water, high enough for everyone to see, rotated it so that the three-quarters of a meter side was facing her audience, and covered it with a frame of ice. She then conjured broad stretches of ice-fabric beneath and behind the concrete in order to backstop and catch the debris. She clenched her fist, and with a quick punching motion simultaneously summoned and rammed a huge spike of ice through the center of the slab, the point shooting out as though it had met with no resistance. Large pieces of concrete bounced off the backstop fabric and tumbled onto the catching cloth.

The people collectively drew in sharp breaths. Newark went deathly pale. Duffin clapped her hand over her mouth. Irene and Debora looked at each other in shock. The other special guests stared dumbfounded.

"She's showing off a little bit again," Anna declared tongue-in-cheekly.

The spike disappeared, and Elsa punched again, this time with a set of six slightly finer-tipped spikes arranged in a circle, each one spaced sixty degrees from its neighbors. These also tore through the concrete like it was paper. For good measure, Elsa twisted her hand back and forth, and the spikes mimicked the motion while still embedded, ripping large gashes in the wall. Rubble rained down onto the ice-fabric sheet.

Those spikes dematerialized, and Elsa punched once more, now with six sets of a tight six-spike array, and on a larger diameter circle. She quickly turned them within the slab, sending more chunks down onto the drop cloth.

Again, the spikes vanished - and again Elsa punched, this time with six concentric rings, each one with six collections of a six-spike cluster, again wrenching the ice-points back and forth. By now, not much remained of the slab except the outer edges near the frame she had made; the steel reinforcement skeleton was laid bare and mangled and shredded from the process. The Snow Queen attached a few dabs of ice to the cage and wrested it free of what was left of the concrete. She made a squeezing gesture with her left hand, and the rim of ice pulverized the remnants. A cloud of dust rose as the wreckage fell into a huge pile on the ice-fabric.

Ever tidy, Elsa floated the cage back over to spot it came from on the quayside before snapping the bars into manageable pieces and letting them drop carefully onto the cobblestones. She then gathered together the corners of the ice-fabric sheet and sealed the edges, making a neat bundle, and levitated it over to behind a building near the university compound in the new part of town, setting it down gently.

"We'll recycle that," Elsa placidly told the gawking throng, as though this was nothing more than a public seminar about Arendelle's waste management system.

The silence was deafening for several moments. Finally, Einar started to clap. Dag and Åsa tried to distance themselves, but everyone was packed so tightly that slipping away was not an option. His applause, however, was quickly taken up by the rest of the crowd, with cheers, whoops, and whistles thrown in for good measure. The researchers joined in, even if only as a conditioned response.

Eventually, the salute died down, and Elsa acknowledged everyone with a demure nod. "And for a final encore, Her Majesty will now perform a compression stress test and an impact test on steel reinforced concrete columns," Torvik announced sarcastically. "I don't think she'll be available for autographs afterward, but please be sure to visit the concession stands when the show is over."

Elsa rolled her eyes, but took no offense at Torvik's insubordinate manner. He wasn't an entertainer, and all these people made him uncomfortable, which was something she could sympathize with. Nonetheless, partly for her own sense of fun and partly to further exasperate the master smith, she rotated one of the ice cylinders in several directions around its geometric center, twirling it as easily as a baton, as she levitated it out over the water. The ice covering the concrete pillar drew itself back until it was only a cap on each end. The Snow Queen summoned another ice-fabric drop cloth to catch the results of her handiwork.

"Come one, come all, to see the compression test on Steel Reinforced Concrete Column, Sample 4, Specimen 1," Torvik proclaimed in a sardonic impression of a carnival barker.

"Applying force now," Elsa said, trying to recapture her regal gravitas. As with the steel rod, at first no change was discernable. Then, with a sudden shudder, the cylinder cracked and large flakes of concrete either plunged onto the ice-sheet or hurtled away from the piling - only to be abruptly snared in jackets of ice and plop harmlessly into the fjord, their momentum instantly checked. "Fracture at 103,897,523 kilograms per meter per second squared. Sample 4 is looking promising."

Torvik nodded. Elsa re-encased the column in ice and directed it, the sealed up drop cloth, and all of the ice-coated debris that had been bobbing in the water to the same place she had sent the crushed wall.

"Impact test on Steel Reinforced Concrete Column, Sample 4, Specimen 2," Torvik called out, reverting to his regular, staid voice.

This time, Elsa didn't engage in any antics with the piling as she floated it out over the water, reducing the ice-sheathing until it only covered the top, and half submerged it in the water. She tugged the hydrodynamic iceberg over and lightly bumped it against the pillar a few times, simulating the buffeting it might take from a ship docked alongside the jetty.

A quick inspection of the gallery told Elsa they would not be happy with a quiet ending, so she slammed the broad side of the iceberg into the column hard enough to send cracks shivering out from the strike zone. "For good measure, let's do a compression test on it now that its structural integrity is compromised," Elsa suggested. Torvik indicated the all-clear.

The piling lifted out of the water, and Elsa capped the bottom with more ice, and once again conjured a drop cloth. With a mere pinching gesture of her thumb and index finger, the web of cracks expanded and shards of concrete shot out, only to be intercepted and brought down by cubes of ice. "75,845,192 kilograms per meter per second squared," she said, and the man with the notebook recorded the number.

For the finale, Elsa balled her hand, and the column utterly failed: the steel reinforcement bars bursting through as they bent over and broke; and fragments of concrete, from small chips to veritable sword blades, flying in all directions, each one trapped by ice - although a few pieces did almost make it to the cobblestones. As with the previous specimen, Elsa added a restabilizing coating of ice, and floated the destroyed pillar and its ice-enveloped debris over to the recycling center, where she would "work" on everything later.

"Master Torvik, please tell the masons that Wall Sample 3 and Column Sample 4 are approved for use. This has been the best materials test yet. Bravo, sir," Elsa complimented as she stepped back on to harborside thoroughfare, and eliminated the plank of ice and the iceberg. The crowd automatically backed up to give Elsa room to move as the guards rejoined her side.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Torvik said rather humbly. Working directly with the Queen in her capacity as the country's ruler was still something of a disconcerting honor for him, and he tried his best not to think too much about her magic and its effects. He often needed a few pints of ale in the evening to help him accomplish that. He and his crew bowed to her, and she nodded in return.

As Elsa strode off at a brisk pace, she spread out her hands with a flourish, as though greeting a group, whereupon huge piles of snow and strategically positioned snow forts popped into existence throughout the quayside, with playground equipment, some child-sized and some adult-sized, made of ice gracing the intersections with the side streets. A tall, sturdy-looking net of ice-fabric cordoned off the edge of seawall. "It will be gone at the stroke of five. Enjoy it until then!" the Snow Queen said airily over her shoulder as she made her way back to the castle.

 **Author's Notes - This should remind the reader of Elsa's escape from the dungeon, except here she is thinking clearly and in full control of powers. IIRC, the IMDB website regards the manacles being twisted open as a "goof" based on the real-world fact that ultra-cold metal shatters instead of warps ... but for Elsa, it's very possible that the ice forming over the shackles crept into every joint and pried it open, bending whatever metal it needed to in the process in order to free her. And that was with Elsa in full unfocused panic mode, with her magic running just about wild. As she and Professor Newark will discuss later, there is no non-magical prison that could ever hold her.**

 **Steel reinforced concrete was still a few decades away in our real-world timeline, but there was technically nothing stopping it from being made earlier. However, steel that strong wasn't developed until the 1950s using a special slow cooling process - but the "Frozen" universe conveniently has a character who can cool things as quickly or slowly as she wants.**


	22. Chapter 22

22\. The Snow-Battle of the Century

The children of Arendelle wasted no time in making snowballs or availing themselves of the slides, swing sets, and merry-go-rounds. One group beckoned to Beatrice and Adam, inviting them to join their team. "Can we, mama? Papa?" Adam asked.

"Just for a little while," Irene consented.

"Come on!" shouted Olaf and took the Scurr children by the hands. "I'll introduce you!" The three of them made their way over.

Four of the larger men from the foundry grabbed Torvik and dumped him in a deep mound of snow. "All right, gents. I guess we'll call it a day," came Torvik's muffled voice from underneath the snow. The metal workers quickly started to fling loose snow at each other.

Zlata knelt and packed a snowball, playfully pegging Waclaw on the side of his head and then took refuge behind her parents, who did their best to avoid shielding her, as Waclaw immediately began to form his own snowball to retaliate. Einar targeted Kristoff, who claimed the nearest unoccupied snow fort and commenced with building a stockpile of ammunition.

Many of the merchants were patting projectiles together, sizing each other up, ranking their business rivals. The foreign ambassadors and their entourages formed coalitions, some going for the natural alliance, but others were strange bedfellows. Rogalund and the Khentiians were giving the Daloans a tutorial in the art of making snowballs, and everyone chivalrously considered them off limits while they got the hang of it. Some members of the tour groups stared in astonishment; others joined the fray. The university staff squared off against the students - except for Åsa who tagged Dag on the chin and lobbed another one that landed on Kristoff's head as he hunkered behind the fort.

"That's my girl!" encouraged Einar. Åsa scored another bullseye on Kristoff. "You'll command a mountain artillery regiment one day!"

"Hey, how about a little help here?" yelled Kristoff. "Dag? Anna? Sven? Anyone?" Dag charged over, taking direct hits to his back the whole way. Sven also came to his aid, although the reindeer couldn't do much more in this situation than toss loose snow or shovel it into a pile.

"Does this sort of thing happen often?" asked Homberg, rolling some snow between his hands, looking for a worthy adversary.

"Sometimes on Saturdays, after the magic show, depending on the crowd's mood," Anna answered, also compacting snow and looking around.

"Does the Queen ever participate?" Duffin enquired, holding a snowball in each hand.

"Not usually," Anna replied, still scouting. "It wouldn't be sporting."

Zlata had been attempting to get Waclaw again from behind her parents, but her aim was poor, and her snowball ended up smacking her father in the back of the head. "Sorry, so sorry!" Zlata giggled. The professor roared in faux fury and grabbed a clump of snow and began chasing after his daughter, with Waclaw also in pursuit. Zlata opted for safety in numbers and dashed toward the university students, who were exchanging heavy fire with their instructors. "Mother! Help!" she shrieked gleefully.

"You are old enough to fight your own battles, my treasure! Especially if you started them!" Debora admonished with a laugh.

Anna found satisfactory quarry and gallantly waited until he was facing her. The Minister of Tourism took the snowball right on the nose. "Is that how it's going to be, Your Highness?" Haugen archly accused.

"Hey, I hit you on your front. That's perfectly fair," Anna maintained, trying to duck in time as Haugen prepared to return the favor. It ended up grazing the top of her head, and most of the disintegrating ball splattered Irene and John, who had been keeping watch on Beatrice and Adam over in the battle's junior division. The Anglians thereupon decided to take good-natured retribution on both the Princess and the Minister.

The Daloans had proved to be fast learners and able snowball warriors, and were now wrecking havoc side by side with the Khentiians in the battle's diplomatic sector, which was coming dangerously close to merging with the business section. The foundry mini-skirmish already had met up with the petty feud between Team Einar and Team Kristoff, and although the ice harvesters had joined forces to combat the smiths, they were still outnumbered and further hindered by the irresistible temptation to take potshots amongst themselves. Homberg and Debora charged in to reinforce the ice harvesters' left flank.

"When in Rome..." rationalized Papadopoulos and rushed over to provide offensive capabilities for Sven on their right flank. Duffin joined him, quickly avenging a barrage that Torvik had directed at Einar.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Einar said to her, doffing his cap - and immediately was pummeled by the young man the foundry had sent to the castle.

"Stay focused, papa!" Åsa scolded.

"How long does this sort of thing tend to last?" Papadopoulos wondered and hurled away from behind the cover of Sven's antlers, which could deftly block and break up a large quantity of snowballs with a single sweeping motion.

"Usually it winds down once all the lines blur and it turns into chaos," Kristoff explained, getting a few good hits on the metal workers and Einar.

"You mean this isn't chaos right now?" Homberg laughed.

"Not even close. You can still tell who's on what side in which fight," Kristoff insisted, taking a snowball to the chest from the foundry side and another on the back of his neck from Einar.

"Will you two stop it?" Åsa chided. "We have a common enemy right now!"

"Incoming!" yelled Papadopoulos as Anna and Haugen were running at them at nearly full speed, seeking refuge from the Scurrs, who had turned out to be a formidable couple in a snowball fight. The smiths took advantage of the distraction to launch a glorious offensive.

"Thanks a bunch, Anna!" Kristoff said sarcastically as his girlfriend dove in between him and the ice fort. Haugen tried to do the same thing with Dag. "You know that using human shields is considered bad manners."

"I'm not using you as a shield; I just want to use the fort for a few minutes, and you just happen to be in the way," Anna tried to convince everyone.

"Pardon me, Ice Master Bjorgman," said Irene, using her best no-nonsense voice that had been honed by nine years of motherhood, as she and John jogged up. "I believe one of the people I'm looking for is hiding-" She was cut off by a bombardment from the foundry men that hit her and her husband dead on. "This means war!" The midwife and doctor momentarily ignored their previous objectives and launched a salvo at Torvik and his crew.

Haugen took the opportunity to try to slip away. "Not so fast, good sir," John said sharply and pelted the Minister of Tourism in the shoulder, with Debora getting some of the powder on her cheek.

"Will you be more careful, Doctor?" hissed Debora in good-natured annoyance. "I have enough to worry about with the lunkheads in front of us."

"Never mind the lunkheads in front of us! The university's fight is headed this way!" Duffin warned.

Sure enough, the students and faculty were slowly migrating toward their snow fort, with Sinibaldo and Newark trotting in advance, trying to keep out of the fracas. The Myrcian and the Lombard had remained aloof, preferring to be amused by the hijinks from a distance, but they were now running out of neutral territory along the waterfront and found themselves blocked off from the inner town by the converging factions. The boundaries of the diplomats and the merchants had already intermixed, and their general movement was also toward the water, since the combatants wanted to keep within reach of the snow and the forts.

"I suppose calling for a truce would be useless," Newark remarked dryly as he approached his fellow visitors. Duffin was the first to sock him with a snowball, followed rapidly by the Scurrs, Debora, Homberg, Einar, and the foundry men. His entire upper body had a snow coating. "Not so bad."

"If you really want to get out of this, just walk away," Anna advised. "You'll take some inadvertent hits, but nobody will deliberately stop you from leaving. Going through the kids' side is probably the easiest."

"Oh, if I'm going to take some hits, as you put it, then I might as well participate," Sinibaldo ventured with a sly grin.

"Well, gird up your loins now, my friend, because the scholars will be upon us soon," Papadopoulos notified him.

"Let's see if the old arm is still limber," Sinibaldo said as he formed a supply of ammunition.

"Now that I've been broken in," muttered Newark after he brushed the snow off his clothes and moustache, "I've nothing to lose. At least the Queen made snow that isn't cold and doesn't melt."

Debora gasped in surprise. "You're right! I hadn't even noticed!"

"It's very easy to get used to it. It's like second nature," Haugen told her.

Sinibaldo and Newark established that they were fine snowball throwers, and actually showed signs of enjoying themselves, even when on the receiving end. The metal workers now found themselves outgunned by a disciplined cadre with good aim. Newark repeatedly walloped many of the smiths right between the eyes, while Sinibaldo teamed with Åsa to lob precise blows to the top of their opponents' heads.

"I could get used to doing this a few times a month," Sinibaldo admitted after they scored a triple hit on Torvik. "It's good exercise."

"It's almost therapeutic," Newark agreed, putting together a row of snowballs. "And much better than using real snow that turns to slush and trickles down into your collar. This is a very interesting substance; it can be formed readily and holds it shape, but becomes loose and powdery upon impact, but then can be readily formed again." He threw six in quick succession and nailed six foundry men. "I'll definitely be keeping a sample of this."

"It really will be gone at the stroke of five," Haugen cautioned, while smacking a smith in the chest.

"But the Queen can make some that doesn't have a time limit for you tonight at the dinner," Anna suggested, and bopped the young messenger in the ear.

Torvik and his crew seemingly sensed that the tide of their contest had turned against them, and had little chance of swinging back in their favor, so they switched their sights to the students and teachers, who were initially puzzled about the source of the indiscriminant fusillade.

"Which side are we on now?" asked Homberg.

"Oh, there's Eliasz!" called out Debora, and clouted her husband on his rump. He looked around, and Debora waved to him. He launched a snowball at her that fell well short. "Don't worry. We're perfectly safe from _him_. He couldn't hit the broad side of a barn from inside the barn."

"I feel obligated to support my fellow professors," Newark proclaimed, and struck the nearest student in the shoulder.

"Well, _I'm_ for my fellow students," Åsa asserted, and tossed a snowball on Holmboe's head.

"Professors!" affirmed Sinibaldo, and tossed a snowball on some unsuspecting student's head.

"Students!" endorsed Einar, supporting his daughter's position, and pasted one to Holmboe's midsection.

Once the university forces saw Team Foundry and the augmented Team Ice Harvester, they decided to play no favorites and were unleashing volleys of snowballs in all directions.

"Professors!" John contended, clipping the base of Stefanie's ponytail.

"Students!" Anna upheld, and, in defense of her friend, let one fly at John's chin.

"Professors!" Irene urged, and planted one on Anna's forehead.

"Students!" shouted Kristoff, and blasted Irene's chest.

"Professors!" exhorted Haugen, landing one on Anna's nose in revenge for her earlier attack.

"Students!" pressed Duffin, who had no real allegiance or grudge but was merely caught up in the flow of the argument, and released one at Haugen's ear.

"Is this chaos now?" asked Homberg.

"We shouldn't be squabbling amongst ourselves!" Papadopoulos implored, with snowballs coming from all directions as the smiths also took advantage of their renewed in-fighting.

"Look out for the men in the strange clothes!" yelled Dag as the Daloans and the Khentiians were driving the larger part of the diplomats' and merchants' combined battle toward them.

"And here comes the kids' brigade!" alerted Einar as the children were also pushing in from the other side.

They could hear imaginative exchanges among the children, such as: "I summon a snow-dragon!" - "Well, I conjure a snow-knight!" - "Hah, here's a snow-wolf coming for you!" - "You'd better run from my giant snow-spider!" - "Argh! Spiders! But I have a glacier to squish 'em!" while the youngsters threw perfectly ordinary snowballs at each other.

"This is really close to chaos!" Kristoff bellowed to Homberg, as the snowballs flew fast and thick, almost at the level of a very localized white-out.

Friend and foe alike were forgotten as visibility diminished due to both the sheer volume of snowballs concentrated in a small area and the participants' need to wipe the powdery snow from their faces so often. And then the artificial blizzard swiftly came to a halt as the piles of snow that Elsa had created were finally exhausted, and it was no longer easy to scrape together enough for another projectile because the snow was thinly and evenly distributed throughout the harborside district.

The storm of snowballs was quickly replaced by gales of laughter. Their veritable symphony of giggles, chuckles, guffaws, howls, and whoops could be heard from the far side of the town. Backs were slapped; hands were shook; hats were recovered; hair was affectionately tousled; Olaf dispensed warm hugs to anyone who wanted one. Most of the adults walked back to their regular affairs, chatting amicably and reenacting choice exploits of the battle. The children turned to the playground equipment.

"I never knew entropy could be this enjoyable," Eliasz said as he reunited with Debora.

"It was the most fun I've had in quite a while," Sinibaldo concurred.

"Hello again, Princess Anna!" Ambassador Jamang exclaimed, his exhilaration mirrored by his compatriots. "This has been the most amazing day of my life! The only thing that could make this 'snowball fight' concept better would be the presence of the Queen!"

"I'm glad you liked it, Ambassador. We'll probably have another one on Saturday," Anna said with a genuine smile at the tropical visitors' delight. "Usually, my sister acts as a referee, but today's fight was spur of the moment, and she has a heap of paperwork to deal with. Plus there are the preparations for the state dinner to tend to." The Daloans' eyes lit up at the prospect of another snowball fight coming soon, and they bounded off to tell the Khentiians the good news.

"If you tell me that Queen Elsa is personally cooking a gourmet, four-course meal for fifty people, I shall be forced to surrender to my feeling of utter inadequacy," confessed Newark.

Anna stifled a squeal of laughter. "Elsa? Cook?" She looked over at Kristoff who was trying unsuccessfully to suppress a smirk. The Princess' giggles erupted, and the Ice Master also gave in to a fit of chuckles; Sven also grinned like a maniac. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Anna wiped tears from her eyes. "Sh-she can't even boil water!"

"Well ... well, she ... she _can_ boil ... water," Kristoff managed to gasp out while almost doubled over. "But she has to ... has to try really hard."

Their mirth threatened to become contagious, even though the guests and locals sincerely did not want to commit the _faux_ _pas_ of publicly laughing at the Snow Queen - especially since the Snow Queen had just demonstrated the ability to tear steel apart and crush concrete.

"Professor Holmboe mentioned there were a few things that escaped Her Majesty's comprehension," John recalled.

"Oh, it's not that my sister doesn't understand the ideas behind cooking," Anna said, recovering somewhat. "It's just that ... that ..." She fought back another round of giggles. "Have you heard the saying 'A watched pot never boils'? Well, if Elsa is too close to the pot and lets her impatience get the best of her, it will _really_ never boil." The Princess scrunched her eyes shut in an effort to keep the giggles at bay.

"It's the same with heating up a pan, if she's really hungry," Kristoff continued. "Sometimes, she'll even unintentionally put out the whole fire if she becomes too frustrated. Which sorta makes cooking eggs difficult." He pursed his lips, trying to smother an impudent smile.

"When it's a big, important dinner, a lot of times the cooks forbid her from coming anywhere close to the kitchen," Anna revealed, the pitch of her voice rising with each word and her shoulders shook from trying to keep her laughter in check.

Einar was brave enough to guffaw at the absurdity of kitchen staff bossing around a monarch who could lift a 55,000 kilogram block of concrete as though it were a soap bubble. He turned to Dag and teased, "Well, I guess you can cross her off your list, lad. She can't cook!"

Dag pulled his cap as far down over his face as he could.

"Oh, she can manage something edible if it doesn't require too much fussing, and if she's not ravenous or in a big hurry," Anna acknowledged. "Something like a simple soup or stew that she can let simmer while she keeps her distance. But _pâte à choux_ is out of her league."

"You hear that? Out of her league, lad," Einar emphasized, and put Dag's cap back in its proper place while giving the young man a meaningful stare.

"Laugh as you want, Your Highness, since it's not my place to say otherwise, but Her Majesty's magic has made working in the foundry safer and more comfortable for us," Torvik said with a touch of censure, even though he had no authority to correct the Princess. "Yes, I may complain about trying to meet Her Majesty's impossible requests. And I may be more unsettled than the average person about what we saw her do today... But I am grateful to her for coming up with ideas to reduce the dangers and the hardships of working with fire and molten metal. We all have our stumbling blocks, so I won't mock her for sometimes struggling to brew a cup of tea for herself."

"We are not making fun of the Queen; she also usually laughs at herself or the situation when her magic gets in the way," Anna justified. "Not that it does on too many things these days." Torvik held up an open hand to indicate that he was appeased.

"I would imagine the Queen's magic also plays a role in the production of your remarkably strong steel," Newark angled.

"Sir, let's just say it involves proprietary techniques and equipment that cannot be easily duplicated elsewhere," Torvik hinted. "If you will excuse me, we have to collect today's wreckage now that the fun is over." With that, the smith bowed slightly to Anna and nodded to the rest of them before taking his leave.

Anna knelt to scoop together the snow from a broad area, enough to make another ball and was poised to throw it at Torvik as he gathered up the broken rods when Kristoff gently but firmly grabbed her arm. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Feisty Pants! Calm down! Let the man work!" The visitors were taken aback by the Princess' fierce determination.

"We were _not_ making fun of Elsa!" Anna huffed.

"I know, but it's easy to see how he could have thought that at first," Kristoff answered calmly. "And the Queen wouldn't be very pleased if she heard you hit an unsuspecting person after the battle was over."

Anna sighed and dropped the ball on the ground. The others relaxed once the situation defused.

"So what preparations for the state dinner does the Queen need to tend to?" asked Papadopoulos, trying to find an uncontroversial topic.

"Oh, just the assigned seating, now that we have a better feel for everybody's personalities," Anna bounced right back to her usual good humor.

"Who gets to sit by Olaf?" the priest enquired.

"Olaf helps out in the children's dining room," Anna explained. "He _can_ eat, but it goes right through him. Literally. It looks a little strange."

"I would very much like to see that!" Homberg chimed in.

"Maybe on Thursday," quipped Sinibaldo, and made a grossed-out face.

Bringing up Olaf and children stirred the Scurrs to check on their son and daughter. Before they became embroiled in the snowball fight, they had watched the little snowman adroitly mind the children's portion and pay particularly good attention to the two new arrivals. Irene spotted Adam playing on a slide with some other boys his age, while Beatrice was talking with two little girls as Olaf pushed them on a merry-go-round. She pointed them out to John, and they started to walk over to see how their little ones were faring. Everyone else followed along.

"Do you know where our daughter ended up?" Debora asked Eliasz. He motioned to one of the adult-sized swing sets, where Zlata and Waclaw were going back and forth while laughing about something with a group of other young adults. Anna and Kristoff immediately recognized the signs of a couple who were wise and secure enough to take their budding relationship slowly. Judging from the fond smiles on the older Mandelbaums' faces, they approved of the match and the pace.

The Scurrs' children noticed their parents -and Princess Anna and Sven- headed their way and ran over to greet them. "Did you have a good time?" asked Irene.

"Oh, mama, it was the best-" Beatrice gushed.

"This snow is wonderful-" Adam prattled.

"We made so many friends, and everyone is so nice-" raved Beatrice.

"Do we get to play like this all the time?" Adam wanted to know.

"Slow down," John laughed. "I guess it's safe to say that you're enjoying yourselves."

"Absolutely," Adam replied with the resoluteness of a nine-year-old.

"Princess Anna, is Snow Queen Elsa really your sister?" asked Beatrice.

"Yes, she's really my sister," Anna responded with amused patience.

"I bet she was a lot of fun to play with," Beatrice declared boldly.

Anna's shoulders twitched slightly; Kristoff tensed and could not keep the concern from showing on his face. That kind of innocuous statement or question from a child had brought Anna to tears before. This time, however, his girlfriend more or less kept her composure, but all of the adults present detected that the Princess and Ice Master were uneasy about something.

"Yeah, she was," Anna said softly and thoughtfully.

Beatrice turned to Adam and demanded: "Why couldn't you have snow magic?"

"Well, why couldn't _you_ be magical?" Adam challenged. "You're the one who's so boring with your dolls and skipping rope."

"Children, don't be-" Irene began.

"Why don't we have magic?" the two youngsters interrupted, pouting.

"That's a very good question," John said. "And looking for an answer to it is one of the reasons we came to Arendelle."

"Remember, I told you that magic like Queen Elsa's is very, very, _very_ rare. So don't be upset that you don't have magic powers," Duffin added helpfully. "Be happy that the Snow Queen shares our world and creates things for you to play with." This seemed to placate the children, who had talked about magic with Miss Duffin on the voyage to Arendelle. Their parents guided them back to the playground area, where they rejoined their new friends.

"I think I'll head back to the castle," Anna said, still introspective. "Someone needs to make sure that the Queen won't try to sneak any paperwork to the dinner tonight."

The visitors smiled, their collective intuition telling them that there was more to it than that, but no one wanted to pry - at least right now. Eliasz, Sinibaldo, and Newark bowed, while the others, following Haugen's lead, simply nodded and waved.

"We'll see you then," said Kristoff, trailing after Anna, sensing her muted mood. Sven wagged his tail and flicked his ears at the new people before bringing up the rear. "Be sure to bring your appetite."

"We shall, Master Bjorgman," Homberg assured him. "We've heard about the castle's hospitality."

Once the Princess, Ice Master, and reindeer were far enough away, Duffin turned to the rest of the group and quietly said, "Somebody tell me that I'm not dreaming."

"If, by that, you are asking for confirmation that you have witnessed steel being pulled apart; tons of concrete floating in air and then being smashed to bits; a living snowman; and an epic snowball fight in temperatures above freezing, then you are not dreaming," Newark answered wryly.

 **Author's Notes - Gotta have at least one snowball fight. This one isn't** ** _that_** **epic, less than 150 people, simply because the town doesn't have the layout or the population for it. But there is some foreshadowing and scientific symbolism going on.**

 **I have decided to give Elsa a cooking impairment because: 1) if you think about it, hunger, impatience, and frustration should cause her powers to flare up and create a "vicious cycle," not necessarily as bad as one fueled by fear, but enough to affect her close surroundings; 2) beings as powerful as Elsa need vulnerabilities and weaknesses (even if it is something as trivial as the inability to make a cup of cocoa/hot chocolate) to keep them from becoming story-wreckers; and 3) I just think the gag of Elsa watching a pot and having it literally** ** _never_** **boil is pretty funny, along with the potential for her facial expressions. Can you say "slow burn"? I knew you could.**


	23. Chapter 23

23\. Sensitive Subjects

"Hey. You all right?" Kristoff asked Anna as they stopped before they reached the causeway.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Anna tried to be dismissive, but "conceal, don't feel" had never been her strong suit. She looked back at her snowball fight teammates; the Minister of Tourism had taken over as their unofficial host and was chatting with them as they tried out the adult-sized playground equipment.

"The little girl wanted to know if Elsa was fun to play with," Kristoff said patiently.

"It was a perfectly legitimate question," Anna defended.

"And it would be perfectly legitimate for it to be a sensitive subject for you," Kristoff pointed out and placed a gentle hand on Anna's shoulder.

"I answered it, didn't I?" Anna tried to sound authoritative, but that was another thing that had never been her strong suit. She sighed, and did not attempt to shrug off his touch. Sven moved in and forced her arm around his neck. "Thank you. For understanding and being concerned." She managed a genuine smile for them.

"You're allowed to have a few sensitive subjects, Sunflower Princess," Kristoff reminded her. "You put up with everybody else's."

"Now that you mention it, I do," Anna said with self-deprecating pride, her usual sanguine attitude returning. "Listen, I think I'll take a nap. As much as I like camping out with the trolls, I didn't get my usual beauty sleep, and then Elsa popped that snowball fight on us, not that I'm complaining, and the reception after tonight's dinner could run late, and shopping turned-"

"Whoa, Feisty Pants, you're making me tired just thinking about it," Kristoff broke in. "Go take a nap. I'll probably do the same after I get some carrots for Sven." The reindeer bounced happily.

"Remember that some of the really snobby diplomats are coming tonight, too," Anna warned him.

"I'll take a bath, make sure my tie is straight, and pay attention to which fork I use," Kristoff pledged.

"I hate it when you don't get to be the real _you_ ," Anna told him and kissed his cheek.

"Are you saying I stink, am a sloppy dresser, and have bad table manners?" Kristoff teased.

"I'm saying that the real you doesn't care what _those_ people think, goofball," she said and kissed his other cheek.

"Yeah, well, it actually does make things go more smoothly for me, you, and Elsa if I meet some of high society's expectations," he admitted. "And it's not like it's total torture."

"If it were up to me, we wouldn't ever invite anybody who would get upset if we slurped our soup and ate dessert first," Anna said.

"So you'd kick Elsa out of the dining room?" Kristoff joked.

"I don't think getting kicked out of the dining room would bother Elsa too much; she'd probably say it increased her productivity," Anna bantered back. "But she is totally in favor of eating dessert first." The Princess' eyes twinkled merrily.

"Right. I'm surprised there hasn't been a royal decree yet," Kristoff laughed, certain that Anna's spirits had improved. He turned back toward the market district. "All right, I'll see you at dinner. Don't oversleep!"

"When have I ever overslept?" Anna asked with feigned indignation.

"Actually-" Kristoff began.

"It was a rhetorical question!" Anna interrupted. "See you at dinner!" She strode off toward the castle.

"Come on, Sven. Let's get you some carrots, hit the hay for a little bit ourselves, then try to get presentable for dinner," Kristoff said to his four-legged friend as they walked back to Bjarne's produce shop.

"Clearly, she doesn't know that the real you _does_ care what _those_ people think," said Kristoff-As-Sven.

"I think she does know, buddy, but she's trying to encourage me to be a little more confident around my social betters," Kristoff replied. "She believes in me. I just need to believe in me, too."

"Talking to yourself again, Ice Master?" came a familiar voice. Kristoff jumped, and he and Sven turned quickly to see Einar flanked by Dag and Åsa.

"No, I was talking to Sven," Kristoff clarified. He kept walking toward Bjarne's shop.

"Oh, all right, then," Einar said with perfect sincerity, tagging along. "It's been quite a day, and I feared that you might have been stricken by all those snowballs to the head." Åsa laughed into her hand.

"I'm fine, thanks. I've got a thick skull," Kristoff said dryly.

"Must be why you haven't popped the Question to the Princess yet," Einar needled.

Kristoff sputtered. "Look, Einar, there are certain things that you just can't rush. This isn't as simple as 'country boy meets country girl.' This isn't even as simple as 'country boy meets city girl.' " Åsa and Dag looked on sympathetically.

"True. But it's one thing to give a lady enough time to change her mind and quite another to give her a _reason_ to change her mind," Einar chided. "You don't want Princess Anna -or the Queen- to get the wrong idea about your silence. If one of them decides that it's because you're not serious about the relationship, you'll be kicking yourself for the rest of your life."

"Trust me, Einar, this is a lot more complicated than me being too shy," Kristoff snapped.

"Ah, yes, it's about you thinking you're not good enough to be a Prince Consort," Einar incited. Kristoff clenched his jaw. Dag cringed.

"Papa!" Åsa gasped and swatted her father's arm.

"Look, lad, if you weren't good enough, the Queen would have seen you off by now," Einar analyzed. "Now, I don't claim to know her, so feel free to correct me on this, but she doesn't strike me as the type to toy with people, to make you think you have a chance in order to hurt you all the more when she crushes your hopes. And with an ally like Queen Elsa, you don't need to worry about anybody else. Except for the castle's kitchen staff, who obviously rule the roost. By the way, speaking as an expert on the subject, please tell Princess Anna -in the most delicate way possible, mind you- that you two _were_ making fun of the Queen."

Kristoff shook his head and smiled at his old friend. "I'll be sure to pass that along when I'm a safe distance away from Her Highness."

They drew up to Bjarne's storefront, and saw the young messenger from the foundry looking over the produce. Sven stood eagerly in front of the carrots, savoring the aroma.

"Hello, Sander," Åsa greeted the messenger with a smile.

"Sander? Now, I may be getting old, and my skull is likely even thicker than Bjorgman's here, but I'm still pretty sure his name is Sáppá," Einar said in confusion. "Or is this a practical joke on your old man?"

"Hello, Mr. Nansen," said the youth shyly. "I go by Sander here in town. It's easier."

Sven looked at Kristoff, who wasn't paying any attention to him, and then back to the carrots.

"How is 'Sander' any easier to say than 'Sáppá'?" Einar asked, still puzzled.

"It's just easier on me," Sáppá/Sander said quietly. "I didn't want to get started off wrong here."

"Started off wrong? How? Isn't the Queen paying for your schooling?" Einar posed, still perplexed.

"Her Majesty is, and I have already learned things about metalworking. I mean started off wrong with the people," Sáppá/Sander whispered. "It's easier if I'm just one of them."

"What are you talk- Wait, are you trying to hide the fact that you're a Lapp?" Einar spouted. Dag winced.

"Ssh! Keep your voice down, please," Sáppá/Sander murmured urgently. " _Please_."

"Papa, please don't be loud," Åsa appealed. "And they don't like being called Lapps; they prefer the word 'Sami.' "

"Of all the-" Einar muttered. "Do your parents know about this name change?"

Sven stared patiently at the carrots, waiting for the humans to finish their discussion.

"Yes. They understand. They want me to have the best possible chance," Sáppá/Sander said.

"Kid, have you noticed that the official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer here is a La-, uh, Sami?" Einar asked, pointing to Kristoff and motioning to his boots.

"Yes, but he has the protection of the Snow Queen," Sáppá/Sander explained.

"You do, too," Kristoff informed him, feeling very uncomfortable. "All of the Queen's subjects have equal protection of the laws."

Sven glanced back at Kristoff, who was focusing on his fellow humans, and nudged the carrots with his snout.

"The laws are all well and good, Ice Master. I'm talking about the way that _people_ treat you and me," Sáppá/Sander rebutted. "The comments, the looks, the cold shoulders, the unfair prices. There's none now that dare do any of that to the Ice Master because of the Snow Queen, but the rest of us don't have that luxury. So I'd rather avoid trouble before it even begins."

Einar turned to Kristoff. "Did he take too many snowballs to the head today?"

Kristoff exhaled noisily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, one: Arendelle's laws don't discriminate against us; we have the same rights and protections as the rest of the citizens. Two: if you do have any trouble, _you_ _can_ go to the Queen. She holds an open court on the first Thursday each month, and sometimes the third, too, depending. Or you can go to the constables and guards any time."

"I know that the royal family is fair-minded, but I don't think Her Majesty's open court is intended for me to complain that I don't like the way somebody else looks at me or steers clear of me in the streets," Sáppá/Sander contended. "And I don't trust the constables or guards."

"They are a lot better now, after the Great Purge. There's a better hiring process, better training, better performance review procedures. I know a couple of them pretty well, and they will _definitely_ help you, no matter who you are," Kristoff countered. "And if the only things you have to complain about are the way a few people look at you or won't associate with you, maybe you're being a little too sensitive."

"Perhaps so, sir," Sáppá/Sander said meekly. "But I still think it's safer to pass for a Nordmann, if I can. You never know when official policies could change."

"I really don't think Queen Elsa is going to reverse her positions," Kristoff reassured him.

"I hope I don't live to see it, but she won't always be the Queen, sir," Sáppá/Sander said softly. Kristoff rolled his eyes, but his stomach tightened at the involuntary thought of how close they had come to being ruled by a lying, murderous usurper, or at least having a broken chain of succession. Åsa, Dag, and even Einar seemed to be somberly reflecting on the same subject. "Please excuse me, but I need to go." Sáppá/Sander ducked his head and walked off at a quick pace.

"Unquestionably too many snowballs to the cranium," Einar grumbled. "Go easier on him next time, Åsa. Hard to believe he's a mountain boy, acting all paranoid and beaten-down like that."

"It can be a little overwhelming when you're new here in town, away from home for the first time. I'm sure he'll get over it," Åsa said hopefully.

"He will," Kristoff said with a conviction he wasn't convinced he felt. "He'll see that most people aren't like that here." But in his head, he heard "Sven's" voice singing the old refrain: " _Yeah, people will beat_ _you and curse you and cheat you..._ "

"Even if they are, I don't think they would risk crossing the Queen, given what we saw her do today. Unless they're the castle's kitchen staff," Einar ribbed. "Of course, she could always fire the lot of them once she finally grows tired of being ordered about, as she undoubtedly will, and hire new, more respectful cooks. Maybe there's your way to the lady's heart, Dag! Learn to cook and join the staff! Do they offer culinary arts courses at the university?"

Dag once again pulled his cap down over his face. Sven looked at Kristoff with huge, begging puppy-dog eyes.

"Papa, stop pestering him!" Åsa reprimanded. "Oh, Kristoff! Sven wants carrots!"

"Sorry, buddy!" Kristoff said, giving the reindeer a contrite pat on the head. "I got a little distracted. We'll get the carrots and go back to the stables." Sven wagged his tail and smiled. Kristoff grabbed two bunches and wandered into the back of the shop to pay Bjarne.

"We should get going, too, my love," Einar said to Åsa. "We'll be back with another load of ice for the festival sometime on Friday, and then teach this town how to celebrate."

"I don't have enough money to bail you out if you end up in jail," Åsa laughed.

"The Ice Master will vouch for me," Einar quipped as Kristoff rejoined them, and watched as Sven bit off a carrot's tip and his owner finished the slobbery remainder. "Ew! Upon further review, you're _not_ ready to be a Prince Consort. I'm surprised the Princess even kisses you."

"Gotta side with him this time, Kristoff," Åsa said with a smirk. Dag nodded in agreement.

"Hey, love me, love my reindeer," Kristoff said breezily as he and Sven walked off. "See you later, if you come to the festival."

Einar wrapped his daughter in a tender embrace and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, and I'm proud of you," he said earnestly. "Study hard, and uphold the ice harvesters' honor in these snowball fights. I'll come visit as often as I can."

"I love you, too, papa," Åsa said with a sigh that held back her tears. "Please don't get into too much trouble. And be nice to Dag!" Her eyes met the young ice harvester's.

"Good-bye, Åsa. I'll see you on Friday," Dag said with a bashful smile.

"Maybe we can have a dance or two," Åsa said playfully. "None of the city boys know the _gangar_." Dag stared at the ground, but kept smiling.

Einar grabbed Dag's cap and pulled it down over the young man's face. "Come on, lad. We spent more time here than we planned on, but we can make it to Blakstad before too long." They waved once more to Åsa before turning the corner.

"Nothing wrong with being awed by nature's beauty and power, lad, but don't forget the simple happiness we feel among our own kind," Einar said with exaggerated innocence. "And nothing against city folk, but I would prefer a mountain boy for a son-in-law." Dag kept his eyes on the cobblestones as they came to their cart and horses.

Åsa returned to the waterfront to get the box score of the student-versus-faculty portion of the snowball fight. She saw the visiting researchers and Minister of Tourism gathered around one of the adult-sized slides and waved to them as she passed by.

"These frictional properties are worth investigating," said Newark as he ran his hand on the incline's surface.

"Or checking to see if someone else has tested them," added Sinibaldo, examining the ladder. "The rungs have a distinctly gritty texture. Non-slip ice, I guess."

"Yes, I think someone has asked Her Majesty to make ice as slippery as she can, but I'm not sure about the opposite direction," Åsa told them. "I sometimes help file and index the magic research papers."

"Ah, so you're more than just good aim and a pretty face," Sinibaldo remarked. "Would either you or Minister Haugen know how much conscious thought the Queen put into making this playground? She created many complex objects simultaneously with a single gesture."

"Once she has worked out the design, making them repeatedly is almost effortless," Haugen disclosed. "Maybe even too effortless at times, if the monoculars are anything to go by. She got a little carried away with those. And the Snowgies. Good thing she was only sick for a day, because that was mass production with every sneeze."

"And you're not _at all_ afraid of her?" prodded Newark, watching Olaf play with the children.

"I respect her power, and we all know to obey her if she tells us to run away or let her leave, but I am not afraid of _her_ ," Åsa declared.

"I haven't been since the initial shock in the courtyard on coronation night wore off," Haugen professed. "Well, I have been afraid that she was going to fire me a few times, but never that she was going to do more than throw me out on my ear."

"What did you do?" asked Eliasz with a laugh, but was also decidedly curious to hear a firsthand account about what could lead to an early termination from the Queen's payroll. "Or was it fail to do?"

"The first time I thought my stint as a royal adviser was over was when we were discussing what to put in the magic show, and I suggested that she could shoot some apples off of people's heads," Haugen said nonchalantly. "Either with an ice-arrow or with a bolt of pure magic that would ice the apple over. Maybe both. I even volunteered my own head for the first shot, and then we could get a member of the audience to participate for the next one. Her Majesty was _really_ not keen on any part of that."

"Can't imagine why, sounds perfectly safe," Eliasz said sarcastically. Irene, Debora, and Åsa stifled their chuckles.

"I know, but if the star of the show refuses to do something, then you're stuck," Haugen responded, seemingly oblivious to Professor Mandelbaum's tone. "And it's more difficult yet if the star of the show is also your boss." He sighed heavily and surveyed the playground.

The others also looked around at the snow scattered on the ground and the people having fun on the swings and merry-go-rounds. Off to the side, Zlata, Waclaw, Stefanie, and a few other university students were building a snowman from the remnants of the snowball fight. Olaf giggled at their endeavor, and some of the children rushed over to help out and give advice, while others went off in search of accessories for the project.

"I must admit this is the most unusual place I've ever been to, and what I've seen makes my head spin, but so far, I rather like it," Homberg owned up. "I'd like to ask to extend my visit. Now that I'm here, it's obvious that two weeks won't be sufficient."

"Same here," said Papadopoulos. "I could spend two weeks just talking with Olaf, never mind seeing the countryside."

"Stop by the office and fill out the forms," Haugen said genially. "You'll probably want to take at least one backcountry tour. We have several trip lengths and destinations to choose from. And please keep this to yourselves, but the Queen is trying to negotiate an agreement with Thelir, one of our neighbors, to include some of their territory in our excursion packages."

Newark lifted an eyebrow. "Expanding Arendelle's reach, eh?" the Myrcian asked suspiciously.

"This is _Queen Elsa_ we're talking about. Thelir would get a proportional share of the profits," Haugen elucidated. "They've had a peace treaty and a trade partnership with us for centuries, and quite frankly, they'd be stupid not to jump at this chance. Their terrain is even more rugged than ours; they're landlocked; and except for our shared border, they're surrounded by Norway proper. They probably would have had to cede to the rest of Norway long ago if it weren't for access to our port. In fact, even as modest as Arendelle is, we also could have annexed Thelir several generations back."

"I see," Newark said mildly. "And considering the feats I saw the Snow Queen do today, she could easily take whatever she wants."

"I assure you, sir, that there is not much that she wants. For herself, at any rate," Haugen said pensively, and once again, the newcomers had the feeling there was a deeper undercurrent to the flow of someone's words.

"But for Arendelle?" Newark probed.

"Oh, nothing more than for us to remain a free and prosperous country that is rightly recognized for our fairness, peaceful intentions, and industriousness. Yes, I know I sound just like an advertisement, but in this case, it's perfectly true," Haugen replied with a self-effacing smile, and placed his hand over his heart.

Newark smiled in return. "Normally, I wouldn't believe a word of it, but you seem like an honest young man - although it _is_ part of your job to make sure Arendelle has good publicity."

"Good publicity does not necessarily equal lying," Haugen riposted without taking umbrage. "I hope that you can understand that someone like Queen Elsa has a valid heightened need for public relations, both at home and abroad."

"Good points, both," Newark granted. He shifted his attention to a merry-go-round, and Sinibaldo and Eliasz joined him in inspecting it. Åsa, John, Irene, Debora, Homberg, and Papadopoulos walked over to where the university students and younger children were shaping the snowman.

"I don't think this thing is attached to the ground at all," said Eliasz as he got down on his hands and knees to peer underneath the platform. Sinibaldo did likewise with a groan. Newark gave it a strong tug, but the overall apparatus didn't budge from its location, yet the platform still rotated smoothly.

"Probably not," Haugen said with a laugh. "The Queen doesn't need to engineer her ice and snow constructions with the normal laws of physics in mind. Gravity is optional for her."

"Speaking of ice constructions, when can we see the Ice Palace?" Duffin asked.

"You can view the exterior any time, either on your own or with the guide of your choice, but you can't go inside except on Wednesdays, weather permitting, as part of the official guided tour," Haugen stated. "I'll have to check, but I think the reservations are already filled for next two trips, but since you're special guests, we can probably arrange something for your group sooner. If, however, you want Her Majesty to come along, you will have to wait for an opening in her schedule, which could take a month."

"A busy woman," Newark said drolly.

"You have _no_ idea," Haugen replied profoundly.

The sound of delighted laughter carried over to them as the finishing touches were being added to the snowman. Beatrice was given the honor of affixing the carrot nose, and Zlata tucked a scarf around the junction of the head and upper torso. Olaf struck a humorous pose that mimicked a certain piece of artwork from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Papadopoulos' eyes went wide, and he covered his mouth with his hand.

"Well, the children have already made friends here, eh?" Sinibaldo commented to Eliasz.

"That part has happened surprisingly fast for Zlata," Eliasz agreed. "She's usually more reserved. So is Waclaw."

"It looks like they've met Miss Rask," Haugen observed. "She's our best tour guide. Very knowledgeable and down to earth despite being a favorite of the Princess. They're in good hands."

The assembly around the snowman broke up slowly, the children of Arendelle either returning to the playground equipment or heading for home, and the young adults chatting amongst themselves as they drifted away. Stefanie directed the gaze of Papadopoulos and Homberg to an outcrop by one of the waterfalls, and they set off toward the path that lead there. The Scurrs and Åsa wandered back toward the new part of town. Debora, Zlata, and Waclaw strolled over to Eliasz.

"That's enough research for now, Professor Mandelbaum," Debora commanded with a grin, "if playing with a merry-go-round can be called research. We need to start getting ready for the dinner tonight. No last-minute fighting over the bathroom!"

"Yes, ma'am," Eliasz said with an affectionately flippant salute.

"I'd better be going, too," said Sinibaldo. "This was more exertion than I'm used to, and it would never do to arrive out of breath and sweaty."

They bowed to Duffin, Newark, and Haugen, who nodded farewell in return, and wended their way up toward the university's level, waving while they passed by Åsa and the Scurrs, who had stalled out as the children dragged their feet about leaving Olaf and the playground behind.

"You'll get to see him again tonight," John said encouragingly. "Princess Anna told us he'll be in the children's dining room."

"And you'll see him in town all the time," Åsa put in. "He loves playing with children. Actually, he loves playing with everybody."

"Will Snow Queen Elsa make another playground for us?" wondered Beatrice.

"Certainly, from time to time. You'll probably get one at the Harvest Festival," Åsa said. This news enlivened the children's pace.

"Will you be at the Harvest Festival?" asked Adam.

"Yes. And so will just about everyone else you met today," Åsa answered with a smile. "By Arendelle's standards, it will be a huge celebration."

"Your father mentioned he would attend, which should make the party quite interesting by anyone's measure," John wisecracked. "I met him earlier today at one of the shops. He's a good storyteller."

Åsa choked slightly. "I apologize if he offended you. He can be a little bit inappropriate. And loud, very loud. Also stubborn at times. And a little overbearing. But he means well," she rambled.

"Don't fret yourself. I can tell he means well," John said. "Even when he was teasing the young man -Dag, isn't it?- that was with him, I could see it was in a very fond way. At first I even thought they were perhaps father and son, but judging from how they addressed each other, they're just good friends, despite the age difference."

Åsa bit her bottom lip and stiffened slightly. "Dag was my brother's best friend."

John came to a halt and gave Åsa a concerned look. "Judging from your use of the past tense..."

"He fell through the ice, two years ago," she said quietly. "Dag was the nearest to the hole, and dived in after him. He was so close to freezing to death, too, but wouldn't give up searching. My father had to pull Dag out." Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

Irene put her arm around Åsa's shoulders, and Adam and Beatrice each hugged one of her legs.

"I am so sorry for your loss," John whispered. "And sorry for bringing up a sensitive subject."

"It's all right, Doctor," Åsa said, regaining some of her composure. "You couldn't have known. And as my father said, accidents like that just happen when your livelihood depends on nature ... although I wouldn't mind if Queen Elsa put all the ice harvesters out of work this very day.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go study. Good afternoon." She did not wait for them to acknowledge her departure, and they did not hold it against her.

"Well, Dr. Scurr, you put your foot in it," John berated himself.

"Best to tread lightly here, for the time being," Irene recommended sympathetically. "I get the sense it isn't always just fun and games in Arendelle."

"Right," concurred John with a sigh, and looked earnestly at the children. "Do you understand, Adam? Beatrice? Don't ask too many questions about other people's families or their lives."

"Yes, papa," said Beatrice. "And don't say mean things."

"And don't keep asking questions if somebody's eyes are watering, even if they say it's just allergies," Adam contributed.

"Very good," John commended. "Be aware of other people's feelings, and everything will be fine."

"Now, let's get going," prompted Irene. "You've dawdled long enough. We need to get ready for the dinner. No last-minute fighting over the bathroom! You know how long your father takes with his hair."

 **Author's Notes - Lots of characters are getting their buttons pushed in this one! Apparently, there was a fair bit of real-life discrimination against the Sami in Scandinavia. Just how much discrimination and prejudice exist in Arendelle will be explored. I realize that back in the 1800s, the Sami were called "Finns" in Norway, but that just creates too much room for misinterpretation.**

 **Thelir is meant to be Upper Telemark, and if you check out the Wikipedia article on Telemark county, you'll see that an old name for it was "Mark of the Thelir." For this story, I imagine Arendelle's territory to be the modern Norwegian county of Aust-Agder, with maybe a little more inland area. I also imagine Arendelle and Thelir to be last remaining petty kingdoms within the region that comprises modern Norway. I will go into more detail as to why later. Hint: It involves an every-thousand-years ice-wielder.**

 **The fresco from the Sistine Chapel's ceiling that Olaf was imitating was, of course, "The Creation of Adam" by Michelangelo. Disney would never do it, but I think it would be hilarious to see Olaf playing "God" to an ordinary snowman, especially if he himself doesn't get the reference.**

 **For the record, an answer to the what the runes in the book say can be found at "Panya's Blog: Linguistic Aspects" in a post from 13 March 2014 and updated on 31 October 2014. The upshot is: The trolls can heal someone hurt by "cold sorcery" if you can get the victim to them soon enough, but warns that love is the only thing that can thaw an affected heart.**


	24. Chapter 24

24\. Do You Want Some Exposition?

Carol Duffin watched with amusement as what the Minister of Tourism called the "second shift" arrived in intervals at the waterfront, equipped with snow shovels and push brooms to collect some of the snow that was flung during the first fight back into a few piles close to selected forts so that the battles could begin again, albeit on a smaller scale. Olaf orbited throughout the playground area, joining the children who came and went in their games.

"Good thing the Daloans and the Khentiians have already called it a day," Haugen said as an aside as they and Newark surveyed the action. "I bet they'll be raring to go after the magic show on Saturday."

"So none of the locals have any qualms about Queen Elsa dumping massive amounts of snow on Arendelle again at random points in time?" Newark asked, observing how eagerly the citizens played with the Snow Queen's handiwork.

"Are you in Arendelle to study Her Majesty's standing with her people or her magical powers, _Professor_ Newark?" Duffin jibed.

"I am interested both," Newark stated frankly. "The primal fear of the unknown and the abnormal, and the rational fear of dangerous forces _should_ make the residents scared to death of her. But they're obviously not."

Olaf carefully shepherded a very small boy up one of the ice slides, and chattered encouragement as the child glided back down to the ground.

"There are some who are afraid of her, or at least disapprove of her," Haugen acknowledged. "The extreme cases have chosen to emigrate, or were given a fair trial and banished for their behavior during the Winter in July. Most of the remaining discontents are people who complain about _everything_ anyway, so the Queen takes them for what they are, just as she asks us to take her for what she is - whatever it is that she is. Even if we don't agree on what she is, the vast majority of us agree on what she _isn't_."

"I see. So nobody looks out his or her window right now and sees all this unexpected snow on the ground and worries that the Queen has lost control or worse?" Newark queried.

Olaf was taking a turn on one of the swings, with an older, stronger boy pushing him since his short, globular legs were of little use to get started or build acceleration.

"If they do, they keep it to themselves," Haugen said simply. "As you saw today, most of us relish the chance to watch Her Majesty use her magic."

"And so do many other people from around the world, if I understand correctly," Duffin mentioned, giving Newark a pointed look. "Humanity also has a rational curiosity about the unknown and the abnormal, and a primal fascination with wonders and mysterious forces."

The snowman egged on the boy to push him faster and higher on the swing. By and by, his carrot nose flew off, but was quickly retrieved by a young girl, who affectionately replaced it on his face, inadvertently upside down.

"Well met, Miss Duffin," Newark said politely. "Wouldn't have science without that side of human nature, would we?"

"And as Professor Holmboe told you this morning, people get sickened, maimed, or killed during chemistry experiments, and yet the spirit of inquiry is stronger than its ever been. Even many common professions are quite dangerous," Duffin pursued. "Anyone who works on the seas will tell you that, as will miners and quarrymen. Have you ever seen a farrier try to shoe an irate horse? Just living in nature can be risky. I've traveled through deserts, sojourned in mountains, waded through swamps, and stumbled through jungles in my search for evidence of real magic, and it has given me a deep appreciation for the safety of our modern civilization."

"Very true. It's just that the Snow Queen got off to a rocky start with the public. It's one thing to trip over your own cape at your coronation ball and quite another to accidentally freeze your entire country," Newark noted dryly.

Olaf seemed to sense that something wasn't quite right about him, yet couldn't establish precisely where the problem was. He first tried interchanging his legs, but it made no difference, so he switched them back.

"Queen Elsa wasn't the only one had some explaining to do afterward. You must admit that not knowing your own strength and being out of practice because you've spent the past thirteen years trying very hard _not_ to use your powers are more convincing excuses than 'I was just following orders,' and 'I didn't think it was my responsibility to do or say anything,' and 'It's just good business to raise prices sky high during an emergency,' " Haugen justified.

Newark arched an eyebrow. "Fair point. I suppose you find out what everybody is made of during a crisis."

The snowman next swapped his stick arms, but found that transferring the second arm was decidedly more difficult than the first, since his elbow now bent the opposite way and his twig fingers curled away from his body. With some effort, he figured out how to maneuver his arm in reverse.

"And we quickly found out that during a crisis, Her Majesty is still committed to what's in the best interests of the people of Arendelle, to trying not to harm anybody with her magic," Haugen stated with conviction. "She was a progressive and benevolent ruler before her powers were revealed, so why should that change? Our university and health care system have been in development since she's been in charge of the kingdom, and her natural resources conservation and research programs have been in place since she was Crown Princess. We might not have seen her much, but we knew she was working for the good of the country and its future. Again, I know I sound like an advertisement, but it's all perfectly true."

"No need to defend yourself, sir," Newark said, showing an open hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Or Queen Elsa. She could clearly take over the world - or at least squeeze out all sorts of excessive concessions from other countries who seek treaties, yet it seems her only tacit command is that everybody plays together more or less nicely. A Pax Arendellea."

"Oh, I like the sound of that!" Haugen said brightly. "May I appropriate it?"

"By all means," Newark said with a genuine chuckle.

"You might want to check with the Queen first before you use it in any public relations capacity," Duffin cautioned with a wry grin. "The Latin term that the professor is modeling it after does have a slight overtone of 'peace by conquest.' We wouldn't want you to get thrown out on your ear."

"Speaking of which, how _did_ you get the job?" Newark posed. "Did you just walk up to your magical monarch and ask for a position promoting Arendelle as a premier stop on the grand tour, with her as the main attraction?"

Dissatisfied with the current operation of his arms, Olaf rotated them in their sockets so that his palms were facing their usual direction and his elbows crooked normally, but now his thumbs were on the bottom of his hand rather than being topmost.

"Almost. Once I had some time to process what I witnessed on coronation night and make the connection with what happened on the night of her birth, I was exhilarated and wanted to see more of that. So did a lot of other people that I talked to here. Then I went to one of the open courts and pitched my ideas. Princess Anna persuaded the Queen to at least think about my proposals and bring in a small test group in to review Arendelle as a vacation destination," Haugen recalled. "You see, my family is in the import-export business, and on our first voyage after the Great Thaw, the simple fact that we hail from Arendelle made us minor celebrities in many foreign harbors. Everyone wanted to hear the story and quite a few expressed a desire to see such marvels for themselves. So I knew we had potential." He glanced at the less intense snowball fights and ice playground. "It took a _lot_ of coaxing from Princess Anna to get Her Majesty to perform in a magic show, but once we got her on stage, she was just a ... a natural."

"And a star was born," Newark quipped.

"Speaking of which, Minister Haugen, you implied that you can remember the night Her Majesty was born. The blizzard, the ice storm, and the aurora?" Duffin invited, still on the hunt for any information about the time before the gates were shut.

Olaf gave up on his arms and returned them to their original arrangement.

"You've heard about it? Yes, the dancing, glowing snow. And the exquisite ice crystals and frost patterns. And the lights in the sky," Haugen mused, staring at the ground as though spellbound by the snow on the cobblestones. "And how the ice and frost disappeared at the sun's first light the next morning. I was five years old, and I stayed awake almost the whole night, just looking at it. I didn't doze off for long, for fear that it wouldn't be there when I woke back up."

"Sounds altogether enchanting," Newark said meaningfully. Haugen nodded without taking his eyes off the snow.

"So you thought it was magic?" Duffin put forth.

"Yes. But that's how five-year-olds think. It's easy to believe in magic at that age, sometimes even easier than believing in reality," Haugen reflected. "Back then, if my mother had told me not to play in or by the streams because I could slip and drown or be swept over a waterfall, it wouldn't have made any impression on me. But since she told me not to because the _bakkhest_ -the brook horse, a kind of water spirit- would lure me onto its back, and I wouldn't be able to get off, and then it would carry me into the water and drown me, I obeyed her."

"Ah, numerous cultures have a very similar water spirit tale, even right down to it often taking the shape of a horse, like our _kelpie_ back home," Duffin said, nodding in comprehension. "And there are also many comparable legendary beings and stories from unrelated societies involving the forest and the night."

"And all of them being used for the same purpose: To keep gullible and stupid people from falling victim to their own gullibility and stupidity by taking advantage of their own gullibility and stupidity. A stroke of genius," Newark perceived, smiling slightly.

In a burst of inspiration, Olaf flipped his head upside down.

"It's all about knowing what plays well with your audience, and what doesn't," Haugen said, smiling in return. "Of course, the adults, being shrewd and intelligent, merely listened patiently and patted my head indulgently when I told them about how the ice and frost floated up into the sky and vanished - 'like magic.' I was somewhat confused why none of them put any stock in what I said, since _they_ were always telling _me_ about all these scary magical creatures lurking in and around water, forests, mountains, caves, dark alleys, and nighttime crossroads. The world was utterly teeming with magic, according to them."

"But eventually you figured out the real dangers that the scary magical creatures symbolized, and no longer needed those sorts of ploys to keep you safe from things that a child can't fully understand," Duffin posited.

 _Something_ appeared to feel better to Olaf with his head upturned, even though all his friends were hanging off the earth like bats dangling from the roof of a cavern.

"Or to keep me from cutting corners or going off task when I was helping out around the household and the warehouse, in the case of beneficial but tiresomely vigilant and fastidious beings like the _nyssen_ ," Haugen added with a laugh. "But yes, in due course, I was as shrewd and intelligent as anybody else, and was practically certain that what I glimpsed that morning was just a trick of the light meeting an over-stimulated imagination ... until I saw _her_ freeze the fountain and blast ice at the steps." He gazed out at the harbor with an unusually yearning look on his face.

The way Haugen emphasized the word "her" and his expression gave both Newark and Duffin pause, and they shared a sidelong glance. The Minister of Tourism was quite possibly smitten with _at least_ the Snow Queen's magic. Newark winked surreptitiously at Duffin, who pressed her index finger over her smiling lips and shook her head.

Duffin allowed the silence to linger for a moment before prompting, "And then you knew magic really does exist."

Finding sudden insight, the snowman tried focusing his eyes on his carrot nose. With a cross-eyed squint, he finally discerned the source of his awkward feeling. He plucked the carrot off his face and oriented it properly relative to his eyes, then returned his head to its correct aspect. Olaf wiped his brow in relief.

"It was something of a jolt at the beginning. We couldn't very well dismiss _that_ as a trick of the light meeting over-stimulated imaginations," Haugen said, quickly recovering his self-assured yet unassuming demeanor. "Fortunately, my gullible and stupid inner five-year-old took the shrewd and intelligent 26-year-old by the hand and reawakened that 'primal fascination with wonders and mysterious forces.' Most of the people I've talked with had much the same response after the Great Thaw. And 'A World History of Real Magic' immediately became the most requested tome at the library and bookshops here in Arendelle."

"All around the world, actually. A veritable international bestseller, once news of Queen Elsa's magic spread. And just envision the sales when the second volume goes to press," Newark joked.

"But there's always the worry that the sequel won't be as good as the first one," Haugen teased.

"You two sound just like my publishers," Duffin bantered back. "Now I have to cope with sales performance projections. And to think, they were happy enough when their niche-market gamble first made a slight profit."

"Well, who knew there was an incredibly powerful magic-user living in a small northern country, almost in the Western Isles' own backyard?" Newark pointed out.

"Who indeed? Didn't _anyone_ in Arendelle think Queen Elsa was a little out of the ordinary?" Duffin trawled. "That the blizzard and ice storm might have been heralding or generating a special birth? The Queen hinted that she didn't get out much as a child, but didn't anybody ever notice the Crown Princess leaving a trail of frost or followed by snow flurries?"

Undaunted by his previous episode on the swing, Olaf cheerfully jumped on a merry-go-round and, keeping a firm grip on both his nose and one of the handhold bars, urged the children to spin him as fast as they could, causing a slight torsion effect in his personal flurry as it whirled with him.

"You'd have to ask the castle staff or her old tutors. We never saw her much, even before the gates were closed," Haugen said with a shrug. "You don't exactly see Crown Princesses playing in the streets with commoners, even in small northern countries. Well, maybe if Princess Anna had been the first-born, but you know what I mean. And after the gates were closed, we'd only see her briefly a few times a year. Interestingly enough in retrospect, only in winter when it was snowing with a good bit of snow already on the ground."

"Let me guess, some of the populace had already nicknamed her something like 'the Snow Princess,' " Newark smirked.

"Brilliant deduction," Haugen conceded wryly. "But later on we also sometimes called her 'the Forest Princess,' due to her concern that we were cutting down our trees faster than they could grow and the study she commissioned -with the King's approval, of course- to find the best ways to manage our woodlands and what we needed to do in order to keep pace with demand. Timber is a very important part of our economy, both as a trade good and in ship-building. It was her first bit of official business."

"I see. How old was she when she had this idea?" Newark asked.

Haugen worked it out for a moment. "About sixteen, maybe seventeen. You can always ask her."

"Remarkable, either way," Newark commended. "And remarkable that a King took a Princess' suggestions seriously and permitted her to take credit for it."

"Just because we're a backwater doesn't mean we're backward," Haugen said humbly. "We've been lucky enough to have had seven rather enlightened monarchs in a row now." He paused. "Although lately there has been some discussion about a few of King Agnarr's policies."

"Shutting the gates? The Queen hinted this morning that the castle was closed because her magic was dangerous. I suppose her father couldn't very well announce that was the real reason," Duffin said quietly.

"He told us it was because he decided the royal family didn't need so many frills at the citizens' expense. And we did see a corresponding reduction in taxes and fees. It played well with his audience," Haugen said in a clipped tone.

"Come now, you really can't blame him for not stating the true cause, or for choosing to be wary with his heir and his country and their futures," Newark argued. "The Queen also hinted this morning that it wasn't easy to arrive at her current level of control. Remember that we are only seeing the final, polished version and not a rough draft. This morning, she let us experience what 'not very tense' feels like if she doesn't restrain or redirect her magic somehow. It was not nearly as pleasant as the conditions of the snowball fight."

"The Queen has also hinted that her magic is easier to control when she doesn't force herself -or isn't forced- to conceal it all the time," Haugen countered, his tone still clipped.

"True. But there should be some sympathy for the complexities of a father's duties. There are no guidelines about how to set and enforce limits while encouraging a healthy kind of individuality and experimentation," Newark advocated, and contemplated Olaf and the town's children playing. "Speaking from experience, it's hard enough with comparatively ordinary children; I can't begin to imagine what it would be like with a daughter who has magical powers directed by her will and triggered by her emotions."

"Neither can I, I guess," Haugen granted, and also turned his attention to the children and snowman at play.

"At least it looks like everything has turned out fine in the end," Duffin proposed, trying to bring back the conversation's lighter mood. "Maybe it's not a classic 'happily ever after,' but the people of Arendelle seem to know and appreciate how lucky they are. And this is one of the most child-friendly places I've ever been to."

"Well, all this doesn't happen every day," Haugen confessed. "Plus, you haven't seen the moping and tantrums that sometimes occur when playtime has to end. And I'm talking about how _I_ carry on, never mind the children and other adults." Duffin and Newark laughed quietly. "Speaking of which, it must be near five o'clock."

Olaf had called all the children on the playground equipment over to him, and they complied, a few somewhat more reluctantly than others. The adults immediately broke off their snowball fights, and helped usher the children away from the slides, swings, and merry-go-rounds. The Minister of Tourism lent a hand, and Newark and Duffin also found themselves assisting. Many of the children were already departing for home or were being gathered by their parents. Most of the adult locals were likewise heading back to their regular matters.

Haugen walked over to a group of obvious tourists who seemed undecided about their next move. "There is one more marvel to see today, ladies and gentlemen," he said amiably.

The clock's bell chimed once, and now everyone stepped away from the snow and playground equipment. The clock's bell chimed a second time, and there was a brief, faint blue-white glow that spread across the area. The clock's bell chimed a third time, and the ice playground, snow forts, ice fabric safety net, and the built snowman fragmented into small pieces and hovered, and the snow on the ground floated up. The clock's bell chimed a fourth time, and all of it soared high into the sky and formed Elsa's signature snowflake. The clock's bell chimed a fifth time, and the snowflake dispersed as fine particles with a flash of light.

"Like magic," Haugen said to no one in particular.

Olaf and a small flock of children strolled away, giggling about something, while a few of the others reclaimed the scarf, carrot, and coal from ground where the non-magical snowman had been.

Duffin looked at the accessories from the built snowman being carried away, then back up at the sky, and finally back at Olaf. "He is such a happy fellow, isn't he," she remarked, her voice catching a little.

"Obviously not a malicious bone in his body, to use a figure of speech," Newark agreed. "And to think, apparently the Snow Queen didn't even know she made him 'alive'..."

"She does work in mysterious ways sometimes," Haugen noted with a laugh, shaking his head. "On occasion, we're hard pressed to tell when she planned it all out and when she just made it up as she went along."

"Knowing that would ruin the magic," Newark snorted.

"No, that's just a woman's prerogative, magical or not," Duffin said smugly. "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure, but it's time to get ready for dinner, even though I don't have to worry about any last-minute fighting over the bathroom." She curtsied to Haugen and Newark, who then bowed to her and each other, and the trio went their separate ways, each one mulling over the afternoon's events.

From the library window, Elsa had kept her eye on the mini-thaw, as she usually did when she made playground equipment with an automatic expiration hour. She had made a private vow that no child would ever again be harmed, directly or indirectly, by her magic. And although her magical designs included many safety features that would be activated in special circumstances, she knew better than to be too complacent. She had the mental images to remind her that children were capable of great feats of willfulness, impulsiveness, and obliviousness, especially when told to stop doing something they enjoyed. She also knew that the design safety features were ultimately founded on fear -the old, familiar fear of someone getting hurt- and that fear and her magic were an unreliable combination, which could set the whole vicious cycle in perpetual motion if she hadn't been mentally focused and emotionally disciplined when she created something.

"If we could build an engine that ran on second-guessing, I could power the world," Elsa said to thin air.

There was a knock at the door; she could tell it was Helga. "Your Majesty, it's five o'clock. Time to prepare for dinner."

"Thank you, Helga," Elsa called as she finished reshelving the records she had needed to analyze the potential of an inland development project. It would require more thought, more research, and possibly a meeting with the residents of a few of the smaller mining communities. She rubbed the knuckles of her right hand, which was a small step toward breaking her hand-wringing habit, and walked out in the hallway.

"Oh, and Master Kai says I might need some ice to wake up Princess Anna," Helga said as she held out a small jar. "She can be awfully hard to get going after nap."

The most gracious and serene Queen of Arendelle obliged with a very cheeky smile.

 **Author's Notes - Sorry that this chapter is original character heavy and somewhat "meta," but they are good narrative devices to discuss Elsa and Arendelle. Most of Olaf's capers in this one should be imagined as background events. I have no idea how he would pull off the arm switcheroo gag.**

 **I figured there does need to be some explanation for why the people of Arendelle are "okay" with Elsa having magical powers. We are a pretty weird species, in that sometimes we react with fascination, acceptance, and reverence and other times with fear, rejection, and violence toward the same phenomenon. Bonus points if you can find half of a "Rent" shout-out.**

 **Elsa's forest initiative would be very forward thinking for her era. Back then, even if we knew that plants and animals could be made extinct or extirpated by our actions, we weren't quite clued in that maybe -just maybe- we shouldn't and/or didn't have to do the things that would lead to ecological collapses. Her concern for Arendelle's forests is both an example of Elsa being a "good queen" and will be a plot point later on.**

 **I imagine Elsa's relationship with her father to be complicated. Trying to raise a daughter who has magical powers directed by her will and triggered by her emotions, who probably has a genius-level intellect in at least at some subjects, and who is going to be a working queen would not be for the faint of heart, even if she didn't also have post-traumatic stress disorder. The wonderful world of Disney...**

 **Newark's remark about how people only get to see the "final version" of Elsa and not the "early working drafts" both ties in to that complexity, and is partially a shout-out to the long struggle to adapt the Hans Christian Anderson tale to the big screen for modern audiences. Only the final version of the Elsa/Snow Queen character is good; all the early ones were villainous or morally ambiguous. There will be future discussions about how the tragedy of accidentally shooting her little sister in the head and being kept apart from society made Elsa the person we get to see.**

 **The "plans it or just makes it up" is, of course, a shout-out to the "Pirates of the Caribbean" franchise.**


	25. Chapter 25

25\. A Dinner Here Is Never Second Best

"I think the snowball fight has worked a miracle," Irene murmured to John as they walked along the causeway as part of a small procession made up of the guests going to the dinner and reception hosted by the Queen. Adam and Beatrice had, understandably, never been so eager to don their best clothes, but surprisingly hadn't fidgeted even once since the last buttons had been fastened, despite their obvious excitement about being invited to eat in Arendelle's castle with Olaf.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be recharged by bedtime tonight," John whispered back. His hair and beard were perfectly groomed.

"Maybe Olaf can tire them out again after they eat. If I didn't already know Queen Elsa's policy about such things, I would definitely ask her to make a living snowman for them," Irene said on the sly. "She could name her price."

"I wouldn't go that far, but I would be very interested in renting one on occasion," John said conspiratorially. "They would also be a great help in calming down young, squirmy patients."

"Well, I guess Olaf has two jobs lined up with the Scurrs if he ever needs some spending money," Irene laughed.

They reached the castle's outer gates, where the group had to stop and produce their invitations and have their names crossed off the list. The guards were friendly but businesslike and alert, and Irene was a little startled to notice that they even gave her children a brief but careful visual inspection. At the checkpoint, the Mandelbaums caught up with the Scurrs, and behind them were Newark, Duffin, and Professor Holmboe and his wife. Once inside the courtyard, Professor Holmboe hospitably conducted everyone to the tall doors of the castle itself.

"It really is one of the more friendly castles, in terms of furnishings and general ambiance," he said as they walked in. "Even the suits of armor are jovial chaps, despite being in the line of fire when Princess Anna rides her bicycle down the staircase. Queen Elsa is much better at navigating the final turn."

Zlata stifled a giggle. Adam and Beatrice looked around in wide-eyed wonder. It was as Holmboe said: Grand, well-appointed, and subtly detailed, without being intimidating or demeaning. All of the adult foreign guests had the feeling the style was a deliberate statement made by the family that had called the place home for generations.

Debora gazed appreciatively at many of the features. "When was this built?"

"Back in the 1500s, I believe. It replaced an older castle that had begun to deteriorate," Holmboe answered as they were greeted by a guard, who guided them down the hall. "It has been redecorated more recently. Her Majesty or Master Kai can fill you in better than I can about the specifics of this place. Architecture and structural engineering are two of the Queen's biggest passions."

The guard stopped in front of a set of soaring doors, opened them, and gestured for the guests to enter. Mrs. Mandelbaum's jaw dropped. It's was the castle's art gallery. "Oh, mother," said Zlata, seeing the astonished look on her face. Eliasz and Waclaw each took one of Debora's arms, fearing she might go weak in the knees.

Sinibaldo, Homberg, and Father Papadopoulos were already milling about within and talking with quite an assortment of other people. Foreign dignitaries, professors, local officials, and some who defied easy categorization were looking at the paintings and chatting affably in the large room. Debora had eyes only for the artwork. The conversations lulled as everyone saw her obvious rapture.

"Oh, dear. We might not be able to get her out of this room," Eliasz said to Zlata.

"Well, I would say they'd bring a plate to her, since they're accustomed to people being holed up in rooms around here, but food and drink are not permitted in the gallery," said an older woman who looked to be an administrative type.

Debora slowly turned a complete circle, scanning each wall from top to bottom. "There are some prestigious pieces here!" she gushed.

"We have more in the halls and other rooms, too. They're mostly family portraits, but there are a few highlights of the collection in the mix. Castle tours run on Tuesdays and Fridays, at ten o'clock and one o'clock," Minister Haugen said helpfully.

"Well, I know where to find her tomorrow," Eliasz deadpanned.

Debora gravitated toward one particular canvas. "The notorious " _L'Escarpolette"_ by Fragonard..." she breathed. Most of the guests joined her in studying it.

"One of Princess Anna's favorites, along with Jeanne d'Arc over there," Minister Rogalund said with a smile.

"That man is looking up that lady's skirt and laughing," Adam observed. John covered his eyes in embarrassment. Irene once again tried to cover Adam's and Beatrice's eyes. Some of the other guests chuckled.

"It was subject to a fair amount of criticism for being too irreverent and ignoble," Debora explained. "And here it is in Arendelle, of all places."

"Many pieces of fine art left France during the Revolution and Buonaparte's wars and the aftermath," grumbled an obviously French diplomat. "Sold to the highest bidders by exiled or ruined owners desperate for funds or by looters."

"A sensitive subject, to be sure, Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie," Rogalund said, trying to calm the waters before too many waves were made. The ambassador, who unfortunately was not the same man that had represented France at Queen Elsa's coronation, was always somewhat prickly, and his mood was bound to be even worse, once the Daloans and Coronans went public with their new partnership.

Before the French ambassador could respond, the doors opened again, and a portly, bald-headed man in Arendelle's livery stepped in. "Would Mr. Adam Scurr and Miss Beatrice Scurr please accompany me to the children's dining room?" he said.

Adam and Beatrice glanced at their parents, silently asking for the go-ahead. "Behave yourselves," Irene reminded them.

"Remember that you are guests of royalty," John cautioned.

The children nodded, and followed Kai out with as much dignity as they could manage. All of the adults, even the French ambassador, smiled.

"Don't worry. There's nothing those two can do to faze the staff or damage the building," remarked the older, administrative-type woman. "This castle has survived the best efforts of the many high-spirited and rambunctious royal children that have been raised here. For a while, it seemed that Queen Elsa was the black sheep -or maybe it should be the white sheep- of the family in that regard, but then her little prison break outdid them all, combined."

Duffin made a mental note to try to talk at length in private with the woman later on. "Does Her Majesty have a favorite painting?"

"She has never mentioned anything to me. We have never had a reason to discuss the castle's artworks, except for a few old tapestries," Rogalund admitted. Duffin looked at Haugen, who shook his head.

Debora had moved on to other paintings. "A minor, but very nice, Rubens," she said, stopping before a landscape.

"There's also a Botticelli and a Rembrandt around here somewhere," Haugen said.

"Not bad for a little private collection," Debora pronounced.

"It's something of a tradition for the royals to bring back at least one work of art when they go a-voyaging," Haugen told her.

"Well, I guess providing the family's next art acquisition will be another thing Queen Elsa leaves for Princess Anna to do," the older, administrative-type woman quipped. Rogalund and Haugen both gave the woman looks of admonishment. "What? Going a-voyaging is almost always done before ascending to the throne."

"Queen Elsa has many years ahead of her, Minister Nilsson," Haugen contended.

"And she will _always_ find some project here that she needs to work on, Minister Haugen, even if it's personally measuring the coastline centimeter by centimeter," Minister Nilsson replied. By now, the exchange had everyone's attention, including Debora's. "So just forget the idea of taking your magic show on the road. And the Queen has no need for the 'meeting people' portion of going a-voyaging. Besides that, even if she did, the people come to us now."

Haugen opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Irene and Debora shared a quizzical look. Dinner wasn't even started, and already the discussion was lively.

"Her Majesty _does_ want to visit other countries one day," Rogalund insisted.

"And _you_ would likely need to stay home, to help the regent run the country, so just forget the idea of seeing the world on a junket, Minister Rogalund," Nilsson retorted.

"I bet they could charge admission to the council meetings," Irene said out of the corner of her mouth to Debora, but not as softly as she had intended to.

"Don't give Minister Haugen any ideas," Nilsson said with a genuinely hearty laugh. "At any rate, most of the time the meetings are just a bunch of tedious facts and figures that put us to sleep."

"Followed by cursing and name-calling and ten lashes each to wake us up," said an older man who looked like a high-ranking military officer of some sort. "Queen Elsa runs a very tight ship." He winked.

"Please, Admiral, no nautical jokes until the reception, when I have a few glasses of wine in me," Nilsson jibed.

"I've heard that you always have a few glasses of wine in you," the Admiral riposted.

"You are misinformed, sir," Nilsson said with mock pique. "Not wine. Brandy."

"Do you see what I have to work with?" Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie said to the rest of his party, and nobody could tell if he was just keeping up with the banter or actually complaining.

The doors abruptly opened again, and Kai called the crowd to order. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please follow me," the royal handler said.

They filed out of the gallery, trailing the stout man. Since the locals and resident ambassadors had done this many times before, things went smoothly once they reached the dining hall. There were footmen holding placards on which were written the names of the various guests, and everyone simply sorted themselves; the footmen, in turn, lead their charges to their assigned seats at the U-shaped table arrangement, set up to accommodate sixty people with twenty chairs on each side. A fire crackled cheerfully in a large hearth, and high up on the walls were sizeable portraits of past monarchs. The castle staff was buzzing around the side tables and bustling through doorways. Again, the overall effect was welcoming, akin to a distinguished hotel.

The Mandelbaums and Waclaw were still clearly a little awed. The Daloans and the Khentiians were arrayed in their finery, which made all of the Europeans' formal clothes look drab and even shabby. They felt more at ease when they saw the Ice Master enter and take a seat near the middle of the head of the table, although they noted that the other Arendellians and dignitaries were obviously getting ready to stand. It seemed the royals were about to make their entrance.

Sure enough, Kai strode in through the door and announced: "Please stand for Princess Anna of Arendelle."

They all did so, and the Sunflower Princess gaily traipsed in, wearing a richly embroidered green dress and her braids tucked up. She stood and waved to everybody when she arrived at her seat. Irene, Debora, and Zlata found themselves waving back along with all of the locals.

"Please remain standing for Queen Elsa of Arendelle," Kai intoned.

The Snow Queen stepped into the room, resplendent in an ice-dress of dark blue overlaid with a glittering white snowflake motif. It covered more of her shoulders and had a higher neckline than her daytime clothing but still featured the thigh-high slit in the skirt. Her pale blue cape was extra long, and the cold breeze she summoned lifted the train off the floor. Everyone bowed or curtsied as she walked gracefully to the central head of the table. Once there, the breeze stopped, the cape shortened to a more sensible length, and she draped it over her left arm and sat.

"Welcome to Arendelle castle. Please be seated," Elsa said graciously. They did so. "Tonight's dinner is held in honor of our visitors from the great nations of Daloa and Khentii, who are also the unofficial champions of today's snowball fight; and the latest members of the university's staff: Doctor Scurr, Professor Mandelbaum, Professor Fauth, Mrs. Westcott, and Mister Eyde."

There was a round of polite applause, and the castle staff immediately snapped into well-choreographed action, facilitated by the table's open-centered layout. Working in three teams, one for each section, they quickly served everyone with water, wine, rolls, and soup. As soon as the last steaming bowl was placed, Elsa ran her eyes over the assembly in search of any disgruntlement. Seeing none, she began to eat without bothering to gauge the soup's temperature. The guests then picked up their utensils, and let their spoonfuls cool off slightly before enjoying their first taste of the royal kitchen's leek and asparagus soup.

After waiting a respectful amount of time and making sure the head Daloan dignitary did not have his mouth full, Elsa broke the ice, with the purpose of finding out if the cocoa growers had found a new business partner. "So, Ambassador Jamang, I understand you and your people fared quite well in your first snowball fight."

"We had outstanding teachers, teammates, and strategists, Your Majesty," Jamang said, motioning to the Khentiians and Rogalund. Elsa made eye contact with Rogalund who bowed his head humbly. She took that as a good sign. "It was a group effort."

"Finding the right associates does make all the difference, Your Excellency," Elsa said with a smile. "I am glad you enjoyed the experience."

Jamang smiled broadly in return. "As I told your sister, today was amazing! First, we reached a trade agreement with Corona; then we witnessed Your Majesty work your incredible magic on the steel and stone; and then we played in snow for the first time. I wish I could bring some back home."

At the mention of the "trade agreement with Corona," Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie's expression soured, and he tried to crane his head over the guests from the Visby embassy to glower at the Coronans. The two other men in attendance from the French embassy, one getting up in his years and the other slightly older than Elsa, looked stunned.

"Does something displease Your Most French Excellency?" the Visby ambassador chirped.

"No, Your Most Visbic Excellency. I was merely working out a slightly stiff neck. I might have pulled a muscle during the snowball fight," de Flahaut de La Billarderie fibbed.

"Sorry to hear that. I hope Your Most French Excellency won't need to retire early. I understand there is a sumptuous chocolate cake for dessert," the Visby ambassador cooed.

The French ambassador tried to disguise his growl by clearing his throat and wiping his mouth with his napkin, and his two compatriots took long sips of wine, while all the other diplomatic guests barely curbed their chuckles. Elsa pursed her lips but her eyes shone with glee. The rest of the company sensed that there was an interesting back-story.

"Palace intrigue," Homberg whispered to Papadopoulos. Newark, sitting next to them, faintly smirked and concentrated on buttering his dinner roll. Sinibaldo smirked more conspicuously while he made a great show of tilting his soup dish away from himself to get the last spoonful of liquid.

On Elsa's right, Anna's shoulders shook slightly and her eyes crinkled. Kristoff, sitting to Anna's right, noticed and wondered if Anna was privy to the joke, even though she tended to stay well away from trade negotiations and political maneuverings. But since whatever was going on apparently involved chocolate, it could have attracted his girlfriend's attention. Or maybe she was just amused that the stuck-up French ambassador had somehow been brought down a peg or two.

Elsa stepped back in to guide the conversation in a more innocuous direction. "If your ship's cargo capacity permits it, I can provide you with several barrels of snow to take home, Ambassador Jamang, as a gift to your people."

"We would be grateful, Your Majesty," Jamang said, smiling even more broadly. "I will check with the captain. Only very few of our people have seen snow even at a distance, so I know they will be thrilled if they can touch the real thing."

"Your Excellency, I'm sorry to say that what we played in today wasn't _real_ snow," Newark cut in. "I must give Queen Elsa high marks for improving upon nature."

"How is real snow different, sir?" asked Jamang looking from Newark to Elsa.

"For starters, Your Excellency, real snow is cold, and unless the temperature remains below a certain point, it will melt," Newark expounded. "Next, real snow doesn't turn to a nice, soft, dry powder upon impact, especially if you can form it into a firm ball that's perfect for throwing."

"I can make some real snow for you later on, Ambassador," Elsa offered.

Jamang's eyes widened. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I am very curious now."

The staff moved in to remove the soup dishes, refill the glasses, and replenish the rolls before bringing out the next course: a salad of four different types of lettuce, shredded carrots, sliced cucumbers, red onions, and radishes, topped with a small fillet of baked salmon -skin already removed- and a lemon-dill dressing.

"Princess Anna suggested that you could supply me with a sample of your snowball fight substance that doesn't turn into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight, Your Majesty," Newark put forward as he tucked into his salad.

Elsa nodded, and an ice-canister filled with the requested snow popped into existence in front of Newark. Despite the marvels they had already seen that day, almost all of the visitors still gasped.

"The effortlessness with which you do that is astounding, Your Majesty," said Sinibaldo. "I am only familiar with the stereotypical stories about human magic users that involve some kind of ritual to make the magic happen. You know, like a spell or invocation, or the use some kind of object or potion, or a set of prescribed motions, or a sacrifice."

"I _could_ do song and dance routines, Professor Sinibaldo, but it would be rather time consuming and horribly out of place in most situations," Elsa said playfully, in hopes of steering the discussion away from an uncomfortable topic; she undeniably had rituals, but they were for the opposite purpose.

"Oh, you don't say, Queen I-Don't-Dance?" Anna snapped. Almost all the guests were taken aback by the Princess' irritated tone. Kristoff focused on his salad. Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie rolled his eyes and disapprovingly shook his head. John and Irene traded bemused looks.

"If Princess Anna is not in the mood for repartee tonight, then perhaps she should remove to the children's dining room," Elsa said archly, although she took care to make sure there was no drop in the temperature. She had a feeling Helga needed to apply the ice to rouse Anna from her nap. That was no one's fault but her sister's, though, and the Queen not about to let tonight's dinner become a verbal joust because Anna was miffed about a few ice cubes.

It was de Flahaut de La Billarderie's turn to barely curb a chuckle. John and Irene traded shocked looks. Minister Nilsson nearly choked on her wine, and Haugen helped her steady her glass. "Goes down smooth," Nilsson croaked and reached for her napkin.

The Admiral, seated to Elsa's left, gave his Queen a sidelong look. There spoke the young lady who had surprised all the members -himself included- of her father's advisory council with the way she assumed authority after her parents' passing. They had quickly discovered there was an iron hand within the velvet glove, and she would be no pushover, let alone puppet. King Agnarr had trained her to be a ruler, and an extremely self-disciplined and self-contained one at that. Now that her powers were out in the open and the Queen was much more approachable and obliging, it was easy to forget that Elsa was more than capable of imposing her will on a situation, even without the use of her magic.

"Sorry, Your Majesty, I was out of line," Anna said contritely, and toyed with her lettuce.

"The children's dining room is much more fun, though," Elsa informed everyone. "Song and dance routines are just a natural course of the meal there. Some people know how to live it up, without worrying about what the high and mighty think."

"Did she just make a pun?" Debora muttered to Eliasz, who subtly shrugged his shoulders and found himself privately worrying about what he had gotten his family into.

"So that means I can still have dessert, Queen Elsa?" Anna asked, keeping her eyes on her lettuce as she pushed it around her plate.

"I'm not a total tyrant," Elsa said with mock exasperation.

"Thanks, sis," Anna said with overdone informality, and Kristoff could see the impish light in her eyes as she kept them directed at her plate. Now he _knew_ she was up to something, and it involved dessert. He just hoped it wouldn't cause an international incident or provoke the wrath of the castle staff.

Duffin was compelled to return to the previous track of the conversation. "Professor Sinibaldo, going back to the rituals often mentioned in the lore, the evidence indicates that they were mostly types of misdirection, like the kind stage magicians and illusionists employ to keep your eyes away from the slight of hand and special props they use. In other cases, they were certainly used to psychologically lead the onlookers to believe that magic was being performed. If given the right backdrop, the human brain will see what it wants to see, or what it has been primed to see. There might be one or two instances in history when a genuinely magical object or third party played a role in an act of true magic. But the fact that Queen Elsa doesn't need the usual hocus-pocus is strong proof that she has real magical powers. I mean, aside from the fact that we've just seen her create ice and snow as quick as a thought."

"Maybe quicker," Sinibaldo proposed. "Your Majesty, I suppose that you have worked out your more complicated designs, like the swing sets or the monocular that Mr. Homberg was showing me while we waited for dinner to start, ahead of time. But as we saw when you let us experience your 'tension' this morning, and with chain breaking load test this afternoon, sometimes your magic has a reflexive aspect to it. Just how much can it do automatically?"

This was a question that Elsa did not want to answer, at least not in public. "As I mentioned at our table discussion this morning, unless I intervene, my magic will simply do particular things in particular situations, without any deliberate orders from me," Elsa acknowledged, struggling to find a superficial but still satisfying response; performing artists weren't the only ones who relied on misdirection to get by. "I have been told that as a newborn, I created a small patch of frost and finely powdered snow, obviously without conscious thought. And there have been many times when my magic fills in the details for me, even if I don't explicitly ask it to fill in the details. For instance, how my ice-fabric holds itself together and has different textures. I don't need to think about which weave or thread count would give the desired appearance, or even instruct my magic to figure it out; it just comes out the way I want it to look."

"Most wondrous!" Ambassador Nasu declared. "Your magic is as automatic as breathing!"

"Automagic!" Minister Nilsson said to her immediate neighbors and drained her wine, and then reached for Haugen's glass and poured his beverage into her goblet.

"Your Excellency, from my perspective, needing rituals to activate magic makes a great deal of sense," Elsa clarified serenely, feeling that honesty was now the best policy to avoid a potentially dangerous misunderstanding about the nature of real magic, at least her variety. "Far more sense than needing rituals to restrain it. At least as a child, while learning control."

Anna shifted in her seat. As much as she sometimes liked to tease her sister, watching Elsa engage in this kind of abstract fencing with strangers left her flustered. She had no idea how Elsa stayed so calm, how the "conceal, don't feel" ritual could possibly work in some scenarios.

" 'It is costly wisdom that is bought by experience,' " quoted Newark, staring hard at the Snow Queen, who raised her wine glass in a toast to him and finally took her first sip of her wine. Newark reciprocated the gesture, followed by everyone else - except Haugen who had to make do with his water glass as Nilsson gulped the last of what had been his wine. "And you've obviously paid your dues in full, because your control is supreme now. However, it does seem that your reflexive magic has saved your life at least once, and has the potential to do so again in the future if the findings of the researchers from Kakrafoon are anything to go by."

"I'm sorry, Professor Newark, but you'll have to jog my memory," Elsa said nonchalantly as the staff stepped in to remove the salad plates, freshen the drinks, and provide more rolls and butter. "There have been many researchers from many countries, and I usually don't read my own press."

"That your magic will automatically form an ice barrier over any poisoned food, beverage, or surface that you touch," Newark informed her, and all the other guests at the table, locals and foreigners, along with Anna and Kristoff, expressed their awe.

"Ah, yes, I remember now," Elsa said casually. "It was a disturbing test, knowing that some of the things I was trying to touch or to consume would make me at least very sick if my magic couldn't tell there was a hazard and the Kakrafoonans didn't stop me in time. But I hope you can understand why I wanted to find out if my powers have that ability. It was also a headache of a test in that the more anxious I am, the more difficult it is to keep from involuntarily icing over perfectly safe things. Trying to block one reflexive reaction but not another, trying to control my nerves while allowing the magic to do its thing was a very tricky balancing act. I'm glad I don't have to go through that again. I'll take one of Professor Holmboe's math exams over something like that anytime."

There was a round of subdued laughter, which quickly halted when the staff brought out the main course. Elsa was, naturally, served first, and as the cover was removed from her plate, those newcomers to dinner at the castle who were seated close enough to her had their first look at the vaunted generosity of Arendelle's table ... and if this was the portion fit for a queen, they began to suspect that reports of the vaunted generosity of Arendelle's table were something of an ironic joke. The slice of roast beef was so thin that light could probably be seen through it. But then the covers were removed from the plates of the Princess, Ice Master, and Admiral, and they began to suspect that someone, probably soon to be seeking a new job, had played something of a practical joke on the Queen.

As each lid was lifted to reveal a very liberal serving of roast beef and potatoes for everyone else, they braced for some kind of eruption of temper from the Queen. But none was forthcoming. Elsa merely glanced around the table to make sure that nothing had been missed. And then she glanced up at some of the portraits on the walls. And then she gave her water glass a slight turn. Although tantalized by the aroma, everyone waited patiently for the Queen to take the first bite. And then Elsa smoothed the tablecloth and gave her water glass another slight turn - but suddenly pulled up sharply and glared at Anna, who insistently nodded her head at Elsa's plate and stared meaningfully at the food. Everyone, first-timers and old-hands alike, fought to mask his or her amusement at Anna's blatant under-the-table prompt and Elsa's look of embarrassed comprehension. There were a few suppressed snorts from Jamang and Nakuta, and a stifled hoot from Minister Nilsson.

Elsa raised a hand in apology, cut off a very small piece, and dutifully ate it. With that, the rest of them tackled their shares with gusto. John inquisitively watched Elsa eat only a few more minute bites and then ignore the remainder, and noted that the Princess was displeased with the Queen's lack of progress, and gave Elsa a quick nudge with her elbow to prod her along. The Queen merely shook her head and looked the other way. John had to keep a laugh in check as Anna rolled her eyes in frustration before smiling deviously.

"Your Majesty, where is Kakrafoon?" asked Newark between mouthfuls.

"I still do not know, Professor Newark," Elsa admitted, nonplussed. "It was very awkward when they showed up, and we knew nothing about them. And couldn't find any information about them. At least they didn't seem to be offended. They said they were simple scientists and didn't expect or need any of the usual diplomatic niceties. Unlike a couple of our other unexpected guests."

"Sokovia," said Rogalund with a shudder.

"Oh, don't remind me," appealed Anna.

"Yes, please don't," concurred de Flahaut de La Billarderie.

"Your Majesty, while others are interested in your reflexive magic, I am currently more fascinated by your thought-out designs. Well, I guess they are thought-out designs. Namely, the monoculars, binoculars, and telescopes in the Royal Gift Shop," Homberg said. "Princess Anna also mentioned something about a microscope."

"Telescopes? Microscopes?" queried Newark, looking from Homberg to Elsa.

Elsa nodded again, and one telescope and one microscope each appeared floating in the air in front of Newark and Homberg. "If I recall correctly, both of you are slated for a night at the observatory, but in the meantime, you can entertain yourselves with a more portable version," Elsa said blithely.

Eliasz, Sinibaldo, John, Duffin, Nasu, and Jamang immediately waved their hands, and with a minimal tilt of her head, Elsa outfitted them with the same optics.

"Oh, she's being munificent with the party favors tonight!" Nilsson said to Haugen, who kept his wine glass in both of his hands and out of her reach, which required invading Kristoff's personal space.

"How did you hit upon the idea, Your Majesty?" asked Homberg while he inspected the Queen's gifts.

"Olaf first showed us that my ice can act as a magnifier," Elsa divulged. "From there, it was just a matter of making lenses, prisms, mirrors, and experimenting with housings and focus pulling mechanisms."

"Have you thought about exporting any of these, Your Majesty?" Homberg asked encouragingly. "Perhaps you do not want too many of them in foreign hands, since the shopkeeper referred to the monoculars as being military surplus, but I know you could get a fine price abroad for even a limited quantity of them, much more than you're currently asking here."

"Military surplus?" queried Newark, looking from Homberg to Elsa.

Elsa stared at her barely touched slice of roast, and tried not to fiddle with her hands. "I don't want to take anyone's livelihood away from him, Mr. Homberg," she said at last. "We didn't have such an industry in Arendelle, so I don't mind selling them here. But other countries do, and there's no way they can compete with me."

"If you made them for your military, why are you selling them in a gift shop?" Newark asked.

"What else could she do with them all, short of unmaking them?" proclaimed Nilsson. "She had already given one to every man, woman, and child in Arendelle."

"Just how many did you make, Your Majesty?" asked Homberg.

"Fifty thousand," Elsa said quietly. Every foreigner raised his or her eyebrows. The Admiral wiped his mouth with his napkin to hide his grin. A few other uniformed men also clamped their hands over their mouths.

"I didn't think Arendelle's military forces were that large, Your Majesty," Newark said with a touch of confusion. "In fact, I didn't think your entire population was close to that large."

"You think correctly, sir," the Admiral answered, admirably keeping a straight face. "There was just a little mix-up in the production run."

"How many did you intend to make, Your Majesty?" asked Homberg.

"Five thousand," Elsa said quietly.

"Well, you were only off by one order of magnitude, Your Majesty," Newark said drolly.

"There are three types of mathematician: Those who can count and those who can't," Elsa said with a shrug.

Professor Holmboe bit his lower lip and closed his eyes. Everyone else was very quiet and still, holding their knives and forks frozen in place over their plates. Crickets could be heard chirping in an adjoining room.

"Why are there crickets in the castle?" Elsa demanded, looking for Kai.

"Your Majesty, I've _told_ you that math jokes play well with only a very limited audience," Haugen lectured.

"Seriously, why are there crickets in the castle, Master Kai?" Elsa persisted.

"I suspect it's an auditory illusion, Your Majesty," Kai said. "They can be extremely loud little creatures."

"So what's the third type of mathematician?" asked Anna, waiting for the punch line.

Holmboe finally unleashed a guffaw. "Queen Elsa was telling you in a facetiously roundabout way that she's one of those mathematicians who can't count. Which is pure slander on her part," he said with a wink and a smile.

There were a few restrained groans from the guests, and many of them covered their eyes with their palms and shook their heads. Anna pretended to be very disappointed, but could not keep the tenderness from showing in her eyes.

"Now I see where Olaf gets it from," Papadopoulos whispered to Homberg.

The staff hastened to remove the plates and pour more drinks. As the maid reached for Elsa's plate, she gave it the once-over and then made eye contact with the Princess, who nodded furtively. Kristoff noticed and felt very unsettled, wishing he could think of some reason to excuse himself before Anna could launch her prank.

"Your Majesty?" Eliasz began, still feeling self-conscious about dining with a queen in her castle. "What is your educational background? You seem to have a very thorough grasp of math, science, and engineering, judging from what Professor Holmboe has told us and your comments during the materials test for your harbor's new seawall."

"She ate tutors for dinner," Anna broke in. "Which is more than can be said about roast beef." This time it was Anna who pulled up sharply and glared at Elsa. Elsa ignored her. John and Irene looked at each other in disbelief.

"I had lessons in many subjects, Professor Mandelbaum," Elsa said modestly, glancing up at one specific portrait. "The king my father understood how important science and engineering are to our modern world, and he saw to it that I was instructed in those areas. Plus, I have always had a natural interest in structures and patterns, so I was always inclined towards fields that study or make use of them."

"So you did the engineering for the seawall yourself?" asked Eliasz.

"Oh, no!" Elsa said. "I know how and where the forces are acting, and certainly how to calculate them. I know what properties the building materials need to have, and how they will fit together. I have my projections for what the future holds in terms of ships and cargo. But Professor Nyberg over there drew up the design. We checked each other's math and critiqued each other's reasoning, but the professional, trained engineer is the one who gives the final approval of the plans, not the monarch. This is not going to be like King Gustav II Adolf of Sweden and the _Vasa_."

The Swedish ambassador grumbled something into his wine glass.

"I am not familiar with the reference, Your Majesty," said Nasu, looking from the Swedish ambassador to Elsa.

"The _Vasa_ was a warship, one of the most heavily armed of its day," Elsa recounted. "Too _heavily_ armed. All of the artillery pieces and especially the two gun decks required to accommodate them put too much weight up too high relative to the part of the ship below the waterline. The ship sank a little over a kilometer into her maiden voyage, with hundreds of people looking on. Of course, there was an inquest to find the guilty parties - but it turns out the ship _had_ been built as ordered and approved by King Gustav II Adolf, who was undoubtedly a good general and statesman, but not a naval engineer."

"It was all the fault of the Dutch and Weseltonians," averred the Swedish ambassador. "As you say, the king was not a naval engineer, and the shipwrights _should_ have told him that what he was asking for would be unstable. Or found a way to make it stable. We were lucky it was not a far greater tragedy."

Anna shifted in her seat again; shipwrecks were _not_ her favorite conversational theme.

"That's one of the drawbacks of a monarchy, especially when the king or queen is successful, charismatic, and ambitious. Almost no one dares to speak up when the ruler wants to do something ill-advised," Elsa reflected, and took a second sip of her wine.

Anna shifted in her seat again, but this time because dessert was on its way - and a successful, charismatic, and ambitious queen was about to get her just deserts.

As the cover was removed from Elsa's plate, the Queen of Arendelle angrily uttered: " _What. Is. This._ "

 **Author's Notes - Yes, I know the version of Fragonard's "The Swing" shown in "Frozen" lacks the man in the bushes looking up the swinger's skirt (like he could see anything more than seven layers of fabric), but that feature of the painting** ** _is_** **the reason it's so famous. So I'm putting it back in.**

 **I really liked that Elsa the Reality Warper needs rituals to turn her magic off rather than turn it on. It's yet another formulaic concept that "Frozen" turned on its head to make the story more emotionally griping.**

 **I also base Elsa's "Iron Hand in Velvet Glove" characterization on what we see or is implied in the movie. "I SAID, ENOUGH!" is the biggie, but also "I mean, if you'd hit my sister Elsa, that would be- yeesh! 'Cuz, you know..." suggests Anna has at least seen Elsa stare daggers at somebody for bumping into her or something similar. And the look that Elsa gives the Bishop when he directs her to remove her gloves hints that Elsa is used to having her way when she deals with people. She wasn't just nervous and trembling right away; at first, she was downright angry that he remembered and/or gave her an order, albeit a meek one relating to tradition that even she was compelled to obey.**

 **I guess this is as good a place as any to do the disclaimer that the characters and places in "Frozen" are the property of Disney. Sokovia is from the Marvel Cinematic Universe (also Disney). The name Kakrafoon is from Douglas Adams' "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" (movie rights owned by Disney). Just being cutesy.**

 **It is really, really hard to fit in a math joke without being outrageously awkward - but since Elsa has a touch of awkwardness, it kinda works.**

 **The story of the** ** _Vasa_** **and Gustavus Adolphus (Gustav II Adolf) really is true. Spend a couple of years and who knows how much money building this magnificent flagship, load it with cannons, and watch it sink right away. Those were the days!**


	26. Chapter 26

26\. Let Them Eat Cake

If it was possible to see light through the slice of roast they had served Elsa, then printed words could be read through the meager shaving of chocolate cake that was placed before her.

"What is the meaning of this?" Elsa challenged sternly, fixing the maid with a figuratively cold stare. The room's temperature had not dropped, but the staff froze in place when they heard the Queen's tone, the distribution of dessert hanging in limbo. "Serve the guests!"

" _I_ arranged for it," Anna declared. "You didn't eat your dinner. And you didn't eat your dinner last night, either. That's ill-advised. So no dessert. I _told_ you we would think of something."

Kristoff gave Anna a pleading look; it hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours since Grand Pabbie had warned her not to push Elsa, and she had already done something to push Elsa - and he didn't see it coming until it was too late.

The staff were still completely immobilized. Those of them who had been in on the plan suddenly thought it was not nearly as funny and fitting as the Princess had made it sound at lunch. Those of them who had been unaware of it were in a state of panicked uncertainty. The guests were also a veritable statuary, barely daring to breathe. Seeing everyone else's reactions made Anna realize this might not have been the best time to spring her surprise.

"Oh. My. Ha. Ha. Very. Funny. _Serve the guests. Now_ ," Elsa ordered, continuing to stare at the maid, who stood motionless, unable to return the Queen's gaze. The rest of the wait staff made up for lost time as they finished their task and retreated to the wings. The guests didn't budge. "Just bring me an appropriate slice of cake," Elsa calmly commanded the maid, who took a trembling step backwards but then halted. " _Now._ "

"Your Majesty-" Kai began apprehensively.

"Let me guess: You have already served _all_ the cake," Elsa coolly deduced. "Sixty adults plus eight children plus my _wonderful_ employees makes for a lot of cakes and not a lot of margin for error. Even though the jesters should have foreseen my displeasure, and had a regular slice in reserve."

"Correct, Your Majesty," Kai quietly confirmed. "Unfortunately."

"You may go," Elsa flatly told the maid, who fled the room, nearly tripping several times in her rush. Elsa closed her eyes and grimaced with exertion as she pushed back against the blast of ice and frost that surged within her. Fighting her anger and her powers' response to it took an effort, but she was not about to release her magic at a formal dinner, no matter what her sometimes ridiculously impulsive little sister and sometimes ridiculously thoughtless staff had done. This was not about missing out on a mere dessert; this was about bad judgment and a disregard for the courtesy due to visitors.

Anna cringed. This was not going anything like she had imagined. Elsa usually did not make scenes in front of other people, even when strongly provoked. Then again, Elsa usually retreated when strongly provoked, but the current circumstances precluded that option, and the last time Anna had seriously goaded Elsa with a room full of foreign dignitaries and local officials watching, the country ended up covered in deep snow for two and a half days or so. "You can have mi-"

"No," Elsa interrupted sharply, not bothering to look at her sister. "You will eat every last crumb of your slice." With one last slight wince, the knowledge that this scheme ultimately stemmed from concern for her well-being won out over her anger, and Elsa wrestled her magic to a level that would not cause her to ice over her utensil and flash freeze whatever she touched with it. She breathed deeply and composed herself. She then picked up her dessert fork -there was only a light coating of frost where her fingers came into contact with the silver, not enough to be noticed by anyone else- and cut off a bite from her own diaphanous piece. Looking around the room at the distressed guests, she popped it in her mouth and ate it. "Please don't let this little stunt upset you," she said genially to the rest of the crowd. "The cakes were prepared for my guests to enjoy."

"Your Majesty, you can have-" the Admiral started to say.

"Absolutely not, Admiral Sverdrup. The cakes were prepared for _my guests_ to enjoy," Elsa asserted. "The whole meal was prepared for my guests to enjoy. Tonight is not about me. Please, do eat."

"I propose a toast to Queen Elsa," offered the Visby ambassador, raising his goblet. "The epitome of a gracious and generous hostess."

The rest joined in, some more nervously than others, echoing: "To Queen Elsa!" and drank a draft. Anna was quite subdued about it. They all tried to match Elsa's equanimity as they took their first bites of the cake, which really was very good.

"I need to have a talk with the staff, because someone's talents are obviously going to waste in the kitchen. With a hand, eye, and nerve steady enough to make this cut, he or she should be in training to be a surgeon," Elsa said dryly as she ate another piece from her veil-thin slice.

At first, no one was sure what to do. Each glanced clandestinely at his or her neighbors to gauge the other people's body language. At last, Minister Nilsson said, "Look on the bright side, Your Majesty. At least you'll keep your girlish figure with Princess Anna overseeing dessert rations. A moment on the lips, forever on the hips."

"And besides, with running the country, I already have enough on my plate as it is," Elsa deadpanned.

Nilsson laughingly groaned. Anna closed her eyes and shook her head. Kristoff bit his lower lip. Haugen paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. Tentative looks were exchanged among the rest of the guests. Finally, most of them loosened up, intuiting that any repercussions would occur away from the public eye and probably wouldn't entail corporal punishment. Yet Eliasz still sat a little too stiffly; John looked concerned; Duffin and Newark seemed to be covertly checking for any signs that Elsa had a power leakage. But they all had the good sense to eat every morsel.

"My compliments to the bakers," Nilsson said after she put her fork down. "I hope they survive tomorrow's mini-purge. It would be a shame to lose such abilities over such a relatively harmless prank."

"I am _so_ sorry, Elsa! This is all my fault! Please, _please_ don't fire anyone!" Anna blurted out.

Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie rolled his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly again.

"I will use very fair criteria to determine whether anybody gets fired," Elsa said dispassionately. "But more importantly, _I_ am not the one you need to apologize to, Your Highness."

"Wait, what?" Anna asked, puzzled.

"You need to apologize to my guests for disrupting their dinner and making them feel awkward and anxious," Elsa expounded patiently. "That is where your true transgression lies, Princess."

Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie gave the Queen a measured look and smiled slightly as he reached the end of his wine.

"Oh," Anna said somberly. It really hadn't occurred to her that the others might be adversely affected by the plot. She assumed that a few of them, especially the French delegation, would disapprove, but she didn't think anybody would feel ill at ease. "I am very sorry for ruining dessert. I beg your pardons."

Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie nodded in acknowledgment of Anna's request for forgiveness, as did the others.

"Just don't try anything like that again, Your Highness," Minister Nilsson cautioned. "Coming between your sister and chocolate is ill-advised. There are forces in this world that you must respect."

"Ladies and gentlemen," announced Kai, "there will be a twenty minute break before the reception in the ball room. The footmen and guards can direct you to the lavatories."

"Ah, yes, speaking of forces in this world that you must respect..." Nilsson said to Haugen, who wondered what he had done to deserve being seated next to her.

The Queen of Arendelle rose from her chair, and all followed suit, standing at attention as she and Anna left the dining room first. Once out of the room, the sisters went their separate ways without speaking; Anna wanted a chance to explain herself better, but their duties weren't anywhere near over for the night. Kristoff hurried from the room a few beats after the royals exited. The rest of the company stretched their legs or sought out a lavatory.

"Well, Princess Anna warned us that dinners here could be a bit of a bumpy ride," Debora observed as her family, the Scurrs, and the others in the research group collected the Queen's gifts and meandered out of the dining room.

"That is one interesting family dynamic," Irene remarked, somewhat mystified.

"I know! It's so nice to see them squabbling like _proper_ siblings," said Minister Nilsson from behind them. "Oh, as if you all never kicked a brother or sister under the table or hid the dessert!" she said in reproof of their aghast looks.

"Never at a state dinner, though," Irene argued.

"Right, because ordinary people like us don't have state dinners," Nilsson reasoned. "But I bet somebody in your family did something naughty or careless or just naïve or otherwise caused a flap once or twice at a big holiday celebration or some other important occasion. Goodness knows my family has some stories to tell about past get-togethers, and re-telling those stories has become a cherished part of our current gatherings, to boot."

"When you put it that way..." Irene said sheepishly.

"See? You understand," Nilsson said kindly. "If you put any family on display for the world to see, there will be a lot of tut-tutting about their behavior - because even if they do start off as an ideal family, being on display for the world to see will give them plenty of eccentricities. Now, our girls' main problems are plain: One of them sometimes doesn't stop _to_ think things through, the other sometimes doesn't _stop_ thinking things through, and the natural consequence is that sometimes neither one can fathom the other even though they love each other dearly. Compared to other royal families, it's only a mild case of madness, if you can even call it madness." With that, the Minister entered a room that was probably a lavatory.

Papadopoulos nodded. "She makes a good point."

The group introspectively dispersed to take advantage of the respite in the socializing, and just missed Kristoff trudge down the hall to the ball room. Usually, receptions weren't nearly as nerve-wracking for him as balls. He didn't have to dance with everybody watching him; he didn't have to be on guard as vigilantly against the would-be suitors who still came to try their luck at winning Anna's interest; as far as mingling went, he could often limit himself to Anna, Haugen, Nilsson, the Admiral, the Bishop, and a few of the other more sympathetic members of the council, military, and constabulary, without offending anybody. At tonight's reception, he even actually found himself _liking_ some of the guests. His snowball fight teammates seemed down to earth, and he would enjoy talking with Homberg or listening to Duffin recall more of her travel experiences.

But Anna's little exploit was sure to be discussed in many of the side-line conversations held safely out of Elsa's earshot. The Ice Master did not look forward to overhearing some of the comments that would be deliberately said a mite too loudly as he passed by certain parties. He also had to admit he was annoyed with Anna for this lapse in critical thinking. She had been doing so much better in the past year, but ever since the university had opened, her impetuous and willful streak had resurfaced, although nothing as major as this.

"Human psychology! This is why I stuck with reindeer for so long," Kristoff muttered to himself. " 'Remember that some of the really snobby diplomats are coming tonight, too,' " he imitated Anna's higher-pitched voice under his breath. "Does she really think that the _real_ me doesn't care about what other people think? Does she really think _nobody_ should care about what other people think, just because she doesn't?"

"Anna cares a lot about what other people think. Maybe even too much," came Elsa's voice from behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to face the Queen, who gave him a knowing smile. "That was a classic example of Anna acting up because she feels insecure, indecisive, or disappointed. Or bored and lonely, but she has no good reason to be bored and lonely."

"I swear I did not know she was planning that!" Kristoff insisted.

"I didn't think for one second that you did," Elsa reassured him. "But obviously I need to remind Kai that I want castle staff hired based on their professional qualifications, which include their sense of decorum and responsibility, and not based on whether Princess Anna thinks they're 'fun.' "

Kristoff gulped timidly. "I don't know what's gotten into her lately."

"Yes, you do. We both do," Elsa said softly. "There's a conflict between reality and Anna's personal concept of what 'And they all lived happily ever after. The end!' means. There's probably even a conflict between Anna's personal concept and what's normally implied when stories use that cliché. Yes, she saved me, and found true love, and the gates are open, but she's not five, and I'm not eight years old anymore."

"Are you sure? Have you ever _listened_ to your own jokes?" Kristoff felt comfortable enough to tease.

"Quiet, you," Elsa said good-humoredly. "All right, I'll save the deconstruction and debunking of standard fairy tales for my meeting with the magic historian. I should get ready for my last grand entrance of the day. Try to give a wide berth to the French, Spanish, Swedish, and Hannoverian diplomats. And let me know immediately if it looks like she's going to punch somebody. Interrupt whoever you need to."

Kristoff nodded, and Elsa strode off. He hadn't had the courage to ask her what he should do if it looked like he was going to punch somebody. It would be such a relief when the guests left. He entered the ball room and gravitated toward the Admiral and his wife. They were friendly towards him, and the Admiral was fairly good at curtailing snide comments from the diplomats.

Back out in the hallway, the research group reassembled, more excited than they were when they gone in search of privacy. Eliasz looked at Debora and was compelled to ask, "Did yours have a flush toilet, too?"

"Yes!" Debora answered in amazement. They all shared exuberant glances and nods.

"Truly, this is a land of wonders," Papadopoulos said.

"I could get used to living in a castle like this," Waclaw said, looking around in even greater admiration than before.

"It might look a bit humble, as far as castles go, on the outside, but the inside is definitely livable," agreed Minister Rogalund as he and the Daloans, Khentiians, Coronans, and Visbians made their way towards the ball room.

"When-" Homberg started to ask.

"Back in the 1700s," Rogalund answered. "Queen Pippilotta, Queen Elsa's great-grandmother, had them installed. Queen Pippilotta was known for her improvements to public sanitation. The castle's flush toilet system was more or less the last undertaking of her reign. They were a newly perfected invention from the Western Isles."

"They're still not exactly common back home, even in palaces," Newark commented. "Arendelle the Prosperous."

"It's been something of a tradition for each monarch to leave the country and the royal family's holdings in better condition than they were when he or she was crowned," Rogalund said with a touch of pride.

"Oooh, Queen Elsa is going to be a tough act to follow," Nasu said musically. The other dignitaries chuckled.

As they entered the ball room, a footman motioned to a table along the wall by the doors, and said to them, "If you wish, you may leave your souvenirs here for the reception." The recipients of the telescopes, microscopes, and snow went along with the suggestion instead of walking around with their hands full.

"That's thoughtful," said Irene. "I take it that we're not the first people to leave a dinner laden with gifts from the Snow Queen."

"By no means," Rogalund laughed. "You're very likely to need a bag or box, which Her Majesty will provide, to take all your goodies home before the evening is over."

"What's the most impressive thing she's ever made for someone?" Jamang asked, staring around the ball room, watching the rest of the dinner guests drift in.

"Well, that's subjective, of course," Rogalund answered. "The one that I myself eventually found the most stirring was the prosthetic leg she made for a gentleman who lost one of his in the Battle of Leipzig. It might not have been her most visually spectacular creation, but a few hours later, the power of what she did really hit me." The others exchanged astonished looks.

"Did it move on its own?" John posed, intensely curious. "Like Olaf or the snow-horse?"

"No. She said she didn't think she could unite it with his body, and didn't think trying to give it a discrete sentience was a good idea," Rogalund said. "But it did have a knee joint that he could adjust for sitting and standing positions and had some kind of shock absorbing system; it fit him very securely and comfortably, and was very light; and it will very likely never break or wear down."

"Now _there's_ something for further investigation," John said, awed by the possibilities.

"Not quite 'Then shall the lame man leap as an hart,' but definitely wonderful," Papadopoulos concurred.

"And she spent thirteen years trying _not_ to use her powers?" Duffin asked incredulously. "What a shame..."

"Her Majesty apparently thought there was a good reason," Rogalund politely maintained.

"Oh, the woodwork, wallpaper, furniture, and carpets would have never survived the young Princess Elsa being one quarter as boisterous as her father or her sister," Nilsson said as she rejoined the group. "I can remember that child simply skipping merrily down the hall to the King's study, and leaving small patches of ice wherever her little feet touched down. She meant no harm -I don't think she even knew she was doing it- but it was a slip-and-fall accident waiting to happen, before it turned into a sopping wet mess on the rug."

John smirked as he saw Duffin's eyes light up like she had just won the grand prize. Rogalund looked mildly irritated by Nilsson's unerring instinct for overly divulgatory statements. Newark and Eliasz pensively processed the information. The others swallowed their laughter.

"How old was she then?" Duffin did a passable impression of nonchalant.

"Four. Cute as a button, and twice as helpful and innocent," Nilsson waxed nostalgic. "It's no act. She comes by it naturally, really she does." This time, they all laughed openly, including Rogalund.

They checked themselves as Kai appeared close to the throne's dais and cleared his throat. They all looked at him and arranged themselves in rows. He then called out: "Queen Elsa of Arendelle." They bowed or curtsied once again as Elsa walked into view from their right. "Princess Anna of Arendelle." Anna scuttled out from their left, and seemed reluctant to get too close to the Queen. Kai gently placed his hands on the Princess' shoulders and stood her in the customary spot, before backing away. There was a round of applause.

"Please be on your best behavior," Elsa whispered as the clapping died down. "Just walk away and come get me if somebody starts to give you too much grief."

"Yes, ma'am," Anna said in an undertone as they walked out toward the crowd to circulate among the crowd.

Elsa made her way over to Professor Fauth, Mrs. Westcott, and Mr. Eyde, while Anna was in doubt about where to start. She wanted to anchor herself next to Kristoff and the Admiral, but etiquette dictated that she say at least a few words of greeting to all the guests. She decided to head towards Rogalund, the Daloans, Khentiians, Coronans, and Visbians.

Very much daunted, Zlata watched the refined diplomats, prominent local officials, and erudite professors break up into groups to chat. The wait staff appeared, carrying trays of after-dinner drinks. "What are we supposed to do?" she quietly asked her mother.

"We can just stand here and talk, or mix it up with the others. The Queen and the Princess will come to us," Debora said. "You'll do fine."

"Just remember that most of the people in this room were throwing snowballs at each other with reckless abandon not too long ago, and that you may have beaned one of them on his or her head," Nilsson reminded everyone, bringing smiles to Zlata's and Waclaw's faces. "Queen Elsa knows what she's doing, most of the time" she added with a wink.

"So the snowball fight was calculated?" Eliasz realized. "A way to get us all to work out tension before the dinner."

"Certainly a way to make most of you sedentary academics and attachés tired enough to not want to linger too long at this reception," Nilsson laughed. Most of the research group raised their eyebrows.

"A tactician," Newark said wryly. "A very subtle one."

"You have _no_ idea," Nilsson informed him.

"Did she have any military training? At least the theory part?" angled Newark.

"Eh, I was just the castle's bookkeeper; I only know what we paid the tutors, not the details of what they taught," Nilsson admitted. "Knowing King Agnarr, I would think he taught her more than enough to get by in a pinch. Possibly the Admiral or Minister Rogalund can give you a clearer answer."

"Admiral Sverdrup, was it? The man standing over there?" asked Newark.

"Yes, that's the old barnacle," Nilsson said fondly. "I'll introduce you. With luck and some digestifs, we can get him to sing a sea shanty or two and spin yarns about sea monsters and naval battles against Arendelle's imaginary enemies before his wife lugs him out." She began to walk over to the Admiral.

Newark exchanged a bemused look with his companions, shrugged, and followed her. The rest of them decided to play along as well. This was the most peculiar kingdom they had ever heard of.

 **Author's Notes - Elsa's slice of cake should be hilariously thin, something only possible through the magic of CGI, like half a millimeter thick.**

 **I imagine the look on Elsa's face as she fights her magic to be very much like what she does in the movie as she's trying to leave the ball room during Ann's "Why? Why do you shut me out?" outburst. It really does look like she's physically struggling to hold it in.**

 **The "ridiculously thoughtless staff" will be touched on more later, because they really were the biggest idiots in the movie. At the same time, a lot of people don't have great judgment or show much initiative even nowadays, and in previous centuries, it was worse.**

 **I really loved that Elsa and Anna had "inverse" tragic flaws in the movie: Anna not stopping to think, and Elsa not being able to stop thinking (which then ties in with Elsa's magic being always "on" by default). It might have taken 'em 70 years to get their story, but at least they did get a story that was more intricate than the usual animated fairy tale musical.**

 **Flush toilets did exist back then. Queen Pippilotta is not** ** _that_** **Pippilotta, but will have certain strong character traits as I flesh out a little bit of Arendelle's history.**

 **Young Elsa should have been something of a literal home-wrecker. I mean, just look at the mess she made at a mere eight-years-old playing in the ball room. That was a whopping amount of snow, ice, and frost, and if it melted and the water sat for a while, kiss that lovely wooden dance floor good-bye. She likely would have been in a world of trouble, even if the accident hadn't happened.**


	27. Chapter 27

27\. Fumbled Reception

"Good evening, Ice Master Bjorgman and Admiral Sverdrup. Hello there, Agnete, it's such a shame that Lennart keeps dragging you to these dull events," Nilsson hailed the trio.

"Someone needs to be here to cart him home in case he starts singing sea shanties and spouting nonsense about _kraken_ sightings and maritime skirmishes that never happened," the Admiral's wife said with a smile.

"I know, but Her Majesty could at least set up some nine-pin lanes in one corner of the ball room to relieve the monotony," Nilsson said. "I've asked her many times, but she's such a stickler for protocol. Every now and then, I regret my promotion to the council."

"You know you'd be sitting at home crocheting if you weren't here," Agnete told Nilsson. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, Ragnhild."

"All right, so none of us are really _that_ exciting," Nilsson allowed. "Except Princess Anna. One never knows what Her Highness will be up to next. I like that girl's pluck." Kristoff blinked.

"The Ice Master is standing right here," the Admiral said softly.

"I know that! I may be past my prime, but I'm not blind or daft yet," Nilsson chided. "I already said 'good evening' to him. Anyway, that gentleman there wanted to know if Queen Elsa could whip you at warfare of the conventional kind."

"Er, that's not the way I phrased it or even what I meant, sir," Newark clarified, and the Admiral gave him an understanding smile. "I just wondered if Her Majesty was taught modern tactics and strategy. It would be part of a crown prince's education."

"She did indeed, sir. All of the recent conflicts in the main part of Europe and the revolts in the New World were thoroughly analyzed," the Admiral acknowledged. "And she's versed in older military styles and techniques. Of course, the main concentration was on the protection of Arendelle, which, thanks be to God, is a defender's dream even with normal weapons."

"Any drills, perchance, using Her Majesty's powers in conjunction with normal weapons, sir?" Newark trawled.

The Admiral gave him a sly smile. "I am not at liberty to say, sir. But it's obvious to anyone with a modicum of martial sense that the Snow Queen is not an opponent to take lightly."

"Yes, much of what she did at today's little materials test would tend to be very useful against a belligerent force," Newark noted dryly.

"We all hope and firmly believe that there will never be any need, sir," the Admiral said sincerely as one of the waiters passed by with a tray of champagne flutes. Nilsson gingerly harvested one. "I am surprised you didn't finish off the Queen's wine after she left the room."

"Oh, I did try to once, but it's just colored water, not wine," Nilsson revealed. Everyone in the group stared at her. "Oops. I'm not sure if I am at liberty to say that."

"I doubt you are at liberty to even _know_ that, Minister Nilsson," Admiral Sverdrup rebuked.

"How was I supposed to know it was just to keep up appearances? Besides, it's not as if anybody could think that she was close to tipsy when she left the table," Nilsson said defensively and took a long sip of the champagne.

"Please let that drink be your last one of the reception, Ragnhild," the Admiral said in a more gentle tone. Everyone in the group stared at him.

"A sensible suggestion, Lennart," Nilsson granted.

"Please don't mind us. We're old friends," Agnete said to the researchers and Kristoff. "The Ice Master was telling us that Miss Duffin has traveled extensively around the world."

"Yes, I've been to every continent except Antarctica multiple times," Duffin said, cooperating with the change of subject. "I was most recently in the territory in the New World that declared its independence from Spain."

"Sounds exciting," the Admiral said, intrigued.

"Oh, it was ... especially since parts of the region are having a bit of a civil war," Duffin said casually. "The things one learns only after one arrives at one's destination."

"How horrible!" Agnete uttered.

"Fortunately, it was intermittent, mostly small in scale, and centered around certain towns and plantations," Duffin said indifferently. "But it did make finding guides and porters more difficult."

"Did you discover anything of interest?" Nilsson asked, and took a smaller sip of her champagne.

"I came across nothing that couldn't be explained by regular extraordinary human endeavor or natural phenomena, but plenty from traditional historical, archaeological, and anthropological standpoints. Even though the ruins were covered by jungle, they were remarkable. And when I could get the natives to talk about their folklore and old beliefs, it was fascinating, especially to compare tales about the Mayan culture's Hero Twins with European and Indian stories about Divine Twins. At least I'll get a good travelogue out of it," Duffin said with a smile.

"My word, I guess I went into the wrong line of work," the Admiral said in astonishment. "I was told that following the sea was for adventure-seekers, but it turns out I should have written non-fiction."

"I hate to break this to you, dear, but you're really not an adventure-seeker, and you don't have a way with words," Agnete teased her husband. He had to chuckle.

"Were you ever scared?" Zlata meekly asked Duffin.

"Not on this particular trip," Duffin replied. "But I have had moments when I've wondered if I would ever see Lothian again. Forces of nature have been the main culprits, but often aided and abetted by human cowardice and incompetence. I've had a few guides abandon me out of fear or get us lost. And it happens at the worst possible junctures."

"Tell me about it," Homberg commiserated. "I spent weeks looking for an extremely rare species in the wrong valley because the guide turned left five kilometers too soon. Of course, I've found some extremely rare species that way, too."

"No such luck for me, at least magic-wise," Duffin sighed. "When I was a child, I always used to dream about finding something amazing in some remote area after a long, hard quest, after needing to do something special to unlock the magic. But after years of chasing the dream, I am actually fine with Queen Elsa openly existing in a commonplace, stable country with reliable transportation and inns and banks and chocolate cake and flush toilets."

"Funny how youthful desires can change or handle compromises," Nilsson mused.

"I still would like to be the first person to discover something magical, or at least the first modern person to rediscover something that was long lost or long relegated to legend," Duffin admitted. "Although Queen Elsa is going to be a tough act to follow."

"Speaking of which, Her Majesty is heading this way," alerted the Admiral as he stood up straight and brushed off his coat.

Debora and Eliasz gave Zlata heartening smiles. Everyone, even Minister Nilsson, stiffened slightly and smoothed his or her clothes.

"Good evening, Admiral Sverdrup and Mrs. Sverdrup," Elsa said pleasantly and made eye contact with each one of them as she spoke their names. "Fancy meeting you here, Minister Nilsson and Ice Master Bjorgman. Hello again, Dr. Scurr, Professor Mandelbaum, Professor Newark, Professor Sinibaldo, Father Papadopoulos, Miss Duffin, Mr. Homberg, and Mr. Kowalczyk. Welcome to Arendelle, Mrs. Scurr, Mrs. Mandelbaum, and Miss Mandelbaum." They all bowed or curtsied in turn. "I hope you all enjoyed dinner and find the company tolerable."

"The dinner was delicious, Your Majesty, not to rub it in. Maybe someone can slip you some cookies under your door tonight, like old times, to make up for it," Nilsson said. Kristoff, the Admiral, and Agnete flinched.

"I am well fed for the day, Minister Nilsson," Elsa said dryly. "I made sure to eat more for lunch than I normally do."

"You _knew_ she was going to steal your dessert?" John couldn't help interjecting.

"Oh, no, Dr. Scurr. I knew we were having roast beef, which is not one of my favorites," Elsa disclosed. "So I counterbalanced for it at lunch."

"That's our Queen, always anticipating problems, always thinking ahead," the Admiral said with light-hearted pride to the foreigners.

 _"Good! But you can't let something like this happen again. You need to think ahead, to anticipate your needs, just like I'm teaching you how to anticipate Arendelle's needs. You need to eat something_ before _you get too hungry," Agnarr lectured gently but urgently._

 _"See the problem and solve it before it even happens..." Elsa reflected_.

Elsa briefly closed her eyes as the Admiral's statement summoned an old memory which she quickly pushed out of her consciousness.

Papadopoulos' puzzled countenance pulled her back to the present conversation. "Wait. If you don't like roast beef, Your Majesty, why was it served?" questioned the priest.

"Because for all her advanced lessons, she failed Beginner's Queening," quipped Nilsson. The Admiral pursed his lips to fight back a laugh.

"Because, Father, I know most of the attendees like it, particularly Her Highness, and it's a very convenient thing for our kitchen to make for a large group," Elsa explained.

"That's considerate of you, Your Majesty," commended Papadopoulos.

"For the record, the soup, salad, and dessert were to my taste. Three out of four isn't that bad as far as compromises go," Elsa said.

"So Your Majesty _can_ count," Newark said drolly, but his expression became more serious as he examined the snowflake pattern on Elsa's dress up close for the first time.

"When I apply myself, Professor Newark," Elsa said affably, but her expression became more serious as she noticed Newark staring at her upper torso. Newark reddened with embarrassment and lowered his eyes as he realized what part of the Queen's anatomy he had been gawking at. "Did I spill some soup on myself? I thought I checked well enough."

"Deepest apologies, Your Majesty, for staring," Newark said nervously. "The design on your dress caught my attention. There seems to be some very fine detail to it."

"Oh," Elsa said simply, entirely unoffended. She moved her fingers as though playing a harp, and a one meter by one meter square of the ice-fabric that her dinner dress was made from appeared, stretched taut and floating in the air like a banner. It immediately drew the interest of all of the guests. "Yes, there is some very fine detail to it. I'm afraid that counting the number of snowflakes in it would take quite a long time."

The conversational cluster moved in closer to inspect the sample. A large version of Elsa's signature snowflake was centered on the cloth, and at the tip of each blade, another smaller snowflake sprouted. On each of the smaller snowflakes, smaller yet snowflakes grew on the five points that weren't attached to the parent snowflake. The formula was repeated on the smaller yet snowflakes, and the process continued as far as the naked eye could perceive. They all gasped in wonder.

"Does that really go on forever?" Papadopoulos asked, straining his eyes at the decreasing glittering branches of snowflakes.

"As far as I can tell," Elsa said with a touch of amusement. This had the potential to distract the guests, even the haughty ones, from Anna's little caper with dessert. "Hold out your hand, Father, if you please."

The priest did so without hesitation, and everyone marveled as a relatively flat pouch of ice-fabric materialized in his palm. Papadopoulos opened it to expose a set of three magnifying glasses like the one Olaf had loaned Homberg earlier in the day.

"Your Majesty, if you wouldn't mind..." Homberg requested, holding out his hand. All the others in research group did the same, along with Irene, Debora, and Zlata. Professor Fauth, Mrs. Westcott, Mr. Eyde, the Khentiians, and the Daloans had made their way over to the hanging fabric, and signaled their desire for a set as well.

Elsa flicked her wrist, and similar pouches shimmered into existence, hovering in the air in front of the intended beneficiaries. "The largest lens is the most powerful of the triad," Elsa told them. Eliasz, Newark, Sinibaldo, and Papadopoulos were already using the gifts to scrutinize the fabric. The others were waiting patiently for their turns, but Elsa created more squares of patterned cloth for them to look at.

"Many thanks, Your Majesty," Homberg said, bowing. Elsa nodded graciously in response and began to move on to the next guests, but Homberg had a sudden thought as he took the magnifying glasses out of the pouch. "But this reminds me, Your Majesty! Olaf was wearing some very decorative rocks for buttons this afternoon, and said that you had given them to him, but he didn't know where you had gotten them from."

"They were a present from an acquaintance from Iceland, along with the obsidian, if Olaf showed you those pieces, too," Elsa answered without stopping to think for even a second. Kristoff wasn't sure if she had thought up the false story in advance, or was just extemporizing.

"So they _are_ volcanic in origin?" Homberg ascertained.

"To the best of my knowledge, yes, Mr. Homberg," Elsa confirmed.

"I thought so. But I must admit I was hoping the source was somewhere near here," Homberg said with a trace of disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Homberg, Iceland isn't an easy day trip, but I understand it's an enchanting place to visit if you delight in geology," Elsa said. Kristoff rolled his eyes at Elsa's inner eight-year-old's private joke.

"I plan to go there one day, Your Majesty. Perhaps I can send Olaf a few more stylish rocks," Homberg put forward.

"He would love that, Mr. Homberg. But please don't feel that you need to take risks to get one for him," Elsa appealed.

"I promise I won't do anything more imprudent than I usually do, Your Majesty," Homberg said, and they both smiled as Elsa resumed making her rounds.

Happily for the Queen, most of the guests this evening were frequently invited to the castle's formal dinners, and so she didn't need to protract her individual greetings with them. She saw a small herd containing university faculty sipping on champagne or brandy and stepped over to meet them.

"Good evening, Monsieur de Gercy, Dean Solheim, Professor Nyberg, Professor Holmboe and Mrs. Holmboe, Mrs. and Mr. Aune, Professor Brinell and Mrs. Brinell," Elsa said warmly. They all bowed or curtsied in return.

"That was a wonderful joke, Your Majesty," Prof. Holmboe complimented.

"I'm glad you and the crickets liked it, Professor Holmboe," Elsa said self-deprecatingly.

"Oh, it was a good one, as far as math jokes go, Your Majesty," Dean Solheim assured her, "but it wasn't the 'laugh out loud' sort of funny math joke."

"Are there any?" Nyberg needled.

"Did you hear about the consti-?" Prof. Holmboe began.

"Stop right there, Bernhard Holmboe!" Mrs. Holmboe interrupted. "That one is totally inappropriate! The Queen is present!"

"The Queen already _knows_ this one!" Prof. Holmboe protested.

"Be that as it may, it's not polite to tell that one in public," Mrs. Holmboe said firmly. "And it is _not_ 'laugh out loud' funny."

"I rest my case," Nyberg said smugly.

"Oh, like there are any 'laugh out loud' funny engineering jokes," Prof. Holmboe charged.

"A uniform beam walks into a tavern-" Nyberg started.

"Gentlemen, please stop," Solheim admonished. "We have already had enough scenes this- Sorry, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to insinuate-"

"It's quite all right, Dean Solheim," Elsa said evenly. "I'm the one who should apologize to you for the commotion tonight. If I had known Princess Anna had put the staff up to that little bit of mischief, I would have eaten quietly and spoken privately with her and her accomplices later."

"The Princess is just young and spirited," said Monsieur de Gercy, the older of the two men accompanying the French ambassador. "At the right times and places, such qualities are nice, and help old men like me remember the bloom of our own youth. Her Highness merely needs some guidance, maybe a little bit of tutoring. Arendelle has adjusted very well to hosting an international crowd, but perhaps we forget that it has been only a little over a year since the castle's gates have reopened after being shut for thirteen years, and it is not fair to expect everyone and everything to be perfectly polished."

Elsa had a strong suspicion that the French ambassador's chief of staff already had a certain someone in mind to "tutor" her sister. Anna was still considered a highly desirable prize, despite it being well-known that the Crown Princess and the Ice Master were courting, and every so often, men would come to Arendelle to try to woo her away from Kristoff. Although Elsa grasped that it riled Kristoff, and probably caused his self-doubt to flare up, and distressed or angered Anna, there wasn't much she could do to put a stop to it, especially the more subtle attempts; such things would continue at least until there was an official engagement, or, given the stakes involved and the power of human determination, possibly even up to the wedding day.

"Very true, Monsieur," Elsa said thoughtfully. "I will take time to give Princess Anna a refresher in our code of conduct. She genuinely has a good heart, and cares deeply about others."

"Ah, but Your Majesty is already very busy. I know how hard you work, and furthermore, I _appreciate_ how hard you work. You are making not just your own country, but also many others better places. It would be a shame to pile one more thing on you, especially since Princess Anna's faults are so few and minor in nature, and could be remedied by someone with less vital things to do," de Gercy cajoled. "We have a young man who recently joined our mission, the second son of the Marquis d'Ambly, seeking to make his way in the foreign service. As things stand, he will inherit no title, but the family is influential and wealthy, and he is very well-bred, in terms of both manners and pedigree, and well-educated. We were just discussing if it would be possible for him to informally attend some courses at your university in his free time."

Elsa suppressed a giggle. This was not one of the more subtle attempts, although the real plan probably was to find out what classes Anna frequented and have d'Ambly _fils_ shadow her and eventually introduce himself, but tonight's episode gave them this prospect. She wasn't sure if the young man was pursuing Anna of his own accord, or if he was being coerced into it by his family or his country.

"That is such a kind offer, Monsieur de Gercy, but trying to teach my sister certain things can be on the challenging side, and I cannot inflict such a trial on someone else," Elsa deflected.

"Well, if you should ever find your schedule overbooked, Your Majesty, please do not hesitate to knock on our door," de Gercy said, not at all surprised or affronted.

"I will keep that in mind, Monsieur," Elsa said cordially. "When I'm at my wits' end, I'll stop in for something restorative."

"Ah, but you have very fine stuff right here at the castle, Your Majesty," de Gercy said approvingly, and swirled the brandy in his snifter before taking a sip.

"Thank you, Monsieur, but I meant tea," Elsa gently deadpanned, They bowed and curtsied again, and the Queen nodded and moved off to the last two groups.

Anna, meanwhile, was also almost done with greeting everyone. She had saved Kristoff, the Admiral and his wife, Nilsson, and her new foreign friends for last, with the intention of staying with them for the rest of the reception. They were still bunched around the floating ice-fabric, and didn't see her approach.

"Um, hi, everyone," Anna said mutedly, so as to not startle them. They all turned to face her.

"Good evening, Princess Anna," said the Admiral.

"Glad to see you, Admiral and Mrs. Sverdrup," Anna began her recitation. "Glad you could make it, Minister Nilsson and Ice Master. Happy to have you here, Dr. and Mrs. Scurr, Professor, Mrs., and Miss Mandelbaum, Father Papadopoulos, Miss Duffin, Professor Newark, Professor Sinibaldo, Mr. Homberg, and Mr. Kowak... Kowaz... Kowal... Kowalczyk!" She ended somewhat chagrined about her bobble at the end but still triumphant and relieved. "I just wanted to say that I think we came in second in the snowball fight."

"To a group of people who had never seen snow before," Nilsson jabbed good-naturedly.

"Hey, the Khentiians probably have! Elsa said their country has mountains," Anna reasoned.

"But do they have precipitation, Your Highness?" Nilsson countered.

"Uh, I wasn't expecting a quiz," Anna said defensively. "And they just got here two days ago."

"Fair enough, ma'am," Nilsson relented.

"Anyway, maybe we can team up again on Saturday," Anna suggested, actually sounding shy for once.

"That's if you're allowed to go to the Harvest Festival, Princess. Your big sister might have something to say about that after your little deed tonight," Nilsson took another swipe.

" _Ragnhild!_ " Agnete scolded.

"OK, so I don't have the best judgment about when to tweak Elsa for not eating enough, but somebody has to do it. She'd work straight through the day if we let her, and she's such a picky eater, anyway," Anna tried to convince the others that her measures were _somewhat_ warranted. "She's not the type to stay mad about something that didn't hurt anyone or damage anything, and in case you didn't notice, there wasn't any ice or snow or wind or drop in the temperature, so it'll be fine. Besides, I have to go for at least a little bit of the festival because I have official duties. You don't expect the Queen to participate in the first folk dance, do you?"

"Ugh, please don't remind me!" Kristoff groaned.

"Kristoff, it's a group folk dance! It's for fun! It's not like your form has to be perfect," Anna said.

"Is it safe to say that the Ice Master does not like to dance?" Debora asked with a smile.

"It's complicated," Kristoff replied. "I do kind of like it, just not with everybody watching. We're not an ordinary couple, you know. And I'm not that good, and I don't know that many dances, folk or formal."

"He's way better than he thinks he is, especially if he's not feeling self-conscious," Anna amended. "And at least he'll try, unlike you-know-who."

"I'm afraid I don't know any of your local folk dances, otherwise I'd offer to help you practice, Ice Master. I'm very interested to see what your dances look like, though, and hear your music," Debora said excitedly.

"Oooh, that's right! You teach dancing! Mrs. Mandelbaum could teach us something special for the ball, Kristoff!" Anna gushed.

Kristoff looked at the others helplessly. The Admiral placed his hand over his heart in condolence; Agnete gave him a light smack on the arm. "Poor fellow," John said playfully, earning him a similar treatment from Irene.

"I don't think that there is enough time before Saturday, Your Highness," Debora cautioned, much to Kristoff's obvious relief.

"Well, there will be more balls, so we can start working on it," Anna reckoned. Kristoff's spirits sank again. "And I still want music lessons, too, Mrs. Mandelbaum. One of our pianos is over here." Anna led the group over to the side of the ball room, to a spacious alcove where a band could play and be out of the way of the dancers. Debora's eyes shone when she saw the semi-concert grand piano.

"Between the gallery and this, I don't know how we're going to get her back to the house," Eliasz said only half-jokingly to Zlata and Waclaw.

"Agnete has vast experience hauling the Admiral home," Nilsson volunteered.

"Hornung..." Debora read the piano maker's name as she lifted cover off the keys. "May I?"

"Why not?" Anna encouraged.

"Debora, maybe you should ask the Queen first," Eliasz advised with some trepidation.

"Oh, don't be so uptight," Anna laughed. "Here, I'll play one of our folk dance tunes. Well, it will only give you the gist of it because our folk music is usually played on a _hardingfele_ -a Hardanger fiddle- which has eight strings and a different tuning, and it always sounds a little dissonant."

Anna pulled the bench out, sat down, and did a very competent job of playing the tune. The other guests ceased chatting and were all ears, many drawing closer to watch. Elsa also paused, smiling fondly. A few of the Arendellians present, including Nilsson, started to tap their feet on the wooden floor to provide a rhythmic accompaniment for the piano, while the Admiral and Agnete twitched their legs as they stifled their itch to dance. When Anna reached the end, everyone clapped.

"You already play quite well, Your Highness," Debora appraised, duly impressed.

"My mother and father and some music teachers used to work with me on singing, piano, and a little bit of violin, and I really enjoyed it. A lot of times, my parents and I would make music together in the evenings. After they ... were lost ... I just didn't feel like playing or learning anymore, so I stopped. But Elsa told me that I could start up with lessons again whenever I wanted to," Anna explained softly. "I'd love to be able to sit down and play something through at first sight, or be able to play by ear. I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good. Not like-" Old memories and an impromptu idea grabbed her, and she rose from the bench and looked around the ball room for her sister. "Elsa!" she called out, waving and walking over to the Queen, who was standing by Haugen, the Bishop, another small group from the university, and Monsieur d'Ambly. "I mean, Queen!"

Nilsson, the Admiral and his wife, and the researchers and their families felt obligated to follow her. Kristoff slowly trailed behind them, unsure about what was going to happen and what to do about it. He did not want to make a disturbance in an attempt to prevent a disturbance, if there was, in fact, even going to be a disturbance. The guests seemed to be expecting one, as they all focused on the royal sisters, and many of them congregated closer to the Queen and Princess; this was not going to be a confidential conversation even if Anna kept her volume down. Kristoff found himself blocked behind the French, Spanish, and Hannoverian ambassadors.

"Here we go again with the 'wild child' routine," Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie whispered to his fellow diplomats.

"Yes, she certainly is wild," the Spaniard murmured. "The wildest Princess I've ever heard of."

"Maybe more than just the scent of the wild man that she courts has rubbed off on her," derided the Hannoverian ambassador. Kristoff felt his ire rise.

"No, my friend. I think in this case like was attracted to like," the Spaniard wisecracked. Kristoff clenched his fists and jaw.

"Yes, _Crown_ Princess Anna?" Elsa said primly, hoping the use of the signal word in her title would prompt Anna to remember her manners.

"Your Majesty, could you play something for Mrs. Mandelbaum? So that I can show her how I want to be able to play?" Anna entreated.

"Your Highness, I haven't touched a piano in many, many years. You don't want to play dreadfully," Elsa rebuffed patiently.

"You are the kind of good that someone doesn't just lose because of lack of practice. You could loosen up with a couple of scales, run through a few easy works, and then jump right to the masterpieces," Anna persisted.

"No, I couldn't, Princess. I would need months of training before I could tackle anything of moderate difficulty," Elsa said with less patience.

"Then you can take lessons with me," Anna coaxed, pouncing on the opening. "Mrs. Mandelbaum teaches music, art, and dancing."

"That's great, and I'm glad you want to take up piano again, but I have neither the time nor the inclination, Your Highness," Elsa stated firmly, keeping a steady grip on her emotions and thoughts.

"How could you not want to?" Anna pressed. "You are _sooo_ good."

Kristoff knew he should do something to get his girlfriend to break off, but was at a loss for words, and there were too many people between him and Anna for him to quietly step in and lead her away. So far, he was zero-out-of-two on stopping Anna from pushing Elsa. This did not bode well.

"Your Highness, I have other interests and obligations now. And I played well enough for a young child, but that does not necessarily mean I would be anything special as an adult," Elsa disputed.

"Oh, I remember you playing more than just ' _well enough,_ ' Your Majesty," Anna heatedly claimed.

"You would think that Princess Anna was the one that they kept locked up in a room for thirteen years," the Hannoverian muttered scornfully to his colleagues. Kristoff smothered a growl.

"Princess Anna, you were _five years old_ the last time you heard me play. Memories from early childhood are often _untrustworthy and idealized_ ," Elsa hinted, giving Anna an intense stare, hoping her sister would understand the subtext and drop the issue.

Anna opened her mouth to make a rebuttal, but abruptly realized what Elsa was implying: That her memories of her sister playing the piano were among the ones altered by Grand Pabbie because they contained Elsa's magic.

"Right," Anna said, backing off from that line of attack but continuing on another front. "But you are such a phenomenal singer and you came up with the number for the magic show, so you really do have musical talent. Don't you want to find out how well you can still play the piano?"

"No, Princess. I just said I have neither the time nor the inclination," Elsa repeated adamantly.

"I swear, Elsa, you won't let yourself have _any_ fun!" Anna accused.

"Maybe they were really trying to protect Queen Elsa from her sister, and not the other way around," the Frenchman jibed under his breath.

Kristoff felt his blood reach its boiling point. He wanted to tap the prigs on their shoulders and then pound them into the ground like tent pegs, but that would definitely create more problems than it solved, at least in the long run. He remembered Elsa's advice to stay clear of these numbskulls in the first place, and so he retreated. He needed to handle this the way Elsa would, not how Anna would. Whenever the Snow Queen was nearing the limits of her emotional endurance, she always chose to withdraw if she had an option, so he knew Elsa would comprehend why he left the room to settle down. Nobody noticed him depart, since all eyes were still on the royal siblings.

"That's enough, Princess Anna," Elsa commanded, a frosty edge to her voice. But her magic stayed contained, although it was agitated and straining for release, and she fought the restless compulsion to pace in sympathy with it. The Queen visually sought out the Arendellian official closest to her sister. The Admiral had the honor, and she met his eyes, and then targeted her gaze at Anna and then at the recess that held the piano, throwing in a minimal toss of her head in that direction to get her silent order across.

"Princess, please listen to the Queen," Admiral Sverdrup said softly as he tried to usher Anna away. "This is something best discussed away from the public. You're making everyone very uncomfortable."

Anna looked around, and saw that she was the center of attention, and that the guests were very much taken aback or regarding her critically. Again, this had not gone the way she had imagined. She had assumed her memories of Elsa hearing something once and playing it back flawlessly, or performing demanding compositions with virtuoso skill and delicate sentiment were bona fide and not more of Grand Pabbie's modifications. And since Elsa loved showing off -although not in an arrogant or intimidating manner- Anna thought asking Elsa to play something would be a brilliant way to boost the Queen's dazzling reputation even more; or better yet, if her sister claimed to be rusty, it would be a good opportunity to persuade Elsa to join in Mrs. Mandelbaum's music lessons, with a chance of luring her to try out dancing. But her edited memories and Elsa's confounding resistance wrecked that plan, and she once more looked foolish and out of control.

Part of her wanted to run from the ball room, but that would only aggravate the state of affairs. Another part of her wanted to explain to everyone why her early memories were a muddle of reality and magical revisions, but that would expose the existence of the trolls and the true cause for shutting the castle's gates. The only way to salvage the situation was to act like a princess. "I'm very sorry about this misunderstanding," Anna said with as much poise as she could muster, but her eyes were downcast, and she allowed the Admiral to lead her back to the band's nook.

Elsa searched the room for Kristoff, but he was not to be seen, which was strange, but sometimes the lavatory break occurred too soon after dinner. "Bishop Strand, Minister Haugen, would you both please be so kind as to help calm Princess Anna down?" Elsa asked as she watched Anna's crestfallen demeanor with concern. She yearned to give her sister a hug and have a heart-to-heart talk with her, but that would need to wait until the reception was over.

"Of course, Your Majesty," the Bishop assented, and hurried over.

"Certainly, Your Majesty," Haugen answered, baffled by what had just transpired.

"Please excuse me," Elsa said to the other people in the last group, and nodded graciously to them. "I, too, am very sorry for this misunderstanding," Elsa said to the guests. There was a respectful hum of response from the crowd. The Queen cast another glance around the room in hopes that Kristoff had returned, but there was still no sign of him. She did, however, locate Kai and, with a tilt of her head, wordlessly instructed him also to go over to Anna, before turning her gaze back to the main doors to wait for Kristoff.

"Looking for someone, Your Majesty?" Nilsson gambled to ask.

"Ice Master Bjorgman," Elsa answered tersely. She so badly wanted to pace, and stopped herself just in time from wringing her hands, turning the motion into a knuckle rub instead.

"Hmm, he was just with us when Her Highness was playing the piano," Nilsson noted, stumped by the ice harvester's sudden vanishing act. "Perhaps nature called."

In an otherwise unoccupied salon down the hall from the ball room, nature was calling Ice Master Bjorgman, but not as a euphemism for a bodily function. Right now, he longed for the mountains, forests, and ice-covered lakes, with just Sven for companionship. Well, if he was to be totally honest, he also longed to both tell Anna off for being so impulsive and console her, which did not aid his effort to curb his anger. He strongly felt that he should be in the ball room trying to help Elsa smooth over Anna's defiance of Grand Pabbie's pronouncement, especially since he was the only other person who knew the whole story (or at least most of it) but he also still strongly felt like punching those ambassadors in their rude mouths.

Kristoff knew he shouldn't let their comments or attitudes bother him, but there was a lot of mountain-folk fierce pride yet in him ... as well as a lot of mountain-folk and orphan-raised-by-trolls and Sami insecurity. If he was to continue being totally honest, their comments and attitudes wouldn't bother him to the point of wanting to resort to violence if he didn't feel they were somehow superior to him and that there was some truth to what they said about him and Anna being wild. And he had the cheek to tell Sáppá/Sander that the young apprentice was being a little too sensitive!

He knew that he was being silly. That the opinions of a few foreign stuffed shirts had no significance in Arendelle. That he should be used to being an outsider. That he should be used to pretending to be happy at civic and castle events. That he could have just moved far enough off to the side when he saw who he was stuck behind. That he could have just cleared his throat after the French ambassador made his "wild child" statement and let them know he standing to their rear.

Kristoff sighed. Maybe he just couldn't cope with the responsibilities that came with courting a princess like Anna. Put him up against a rampant pack of Elsa's Snowgies, and he could save the day, but somehow one small, vivacious, and spontaneous young woman was a number too high for him. Of course, the Snowgies were simply going after an ice cream cake. He sighed again, and sang to himself:

 _In a room full of smiles_

 _I'm the only frown._

 _These clothes don't fit right._

 _I feel like a clown._

 _I know seven knots but_

 _Can't do my own tie._

 _I wash every day but_

 _Still smell like a sty._

 _Not sure how to act_

 _Around the privileged few._

 _They tell me to fake it,_

 _But I just can't take it._

 _'Cause I'm the king_

 _Of the reindeer._

 _And when they give me that look_

 _I want to disappear._

 _I never had much._

 _A stray taken in by trolls._

 _Never had formal schooling,_

 _Never had lofty goals._

 _I'm much more at home_

 _In a tumbledown stable._

 _So why am I invited_

 _To dine at royalty's table?_

 _I bet they don't notice_

 _That I left the room._

 _They're all just so phony_

 _With their smirking acrimony._

 _'Cause I'm the king_

 _Of the reindeer._

 _And when they give me that look_

 _I want to disappear_.

 _Why, why can't I fit in?_

 _Why, why, why, why, why?_

 _Why-y-y?_

 _Even my family thinks_

 _I'm a fixer-upper,_

 _Not the kind of guy_

 _You'd ask to a fancy supper._

 _No one cares if I'm happy._

 _No one cares what I want._

 _They tell me to fake it,_

 _But I just can't take it._

 _'Cause I'm the king_

 _Of the reindeer._

 _And when they give me that look_

 _I want to disappear_.

 **Author's Notes - I thought Kristoff/Jonathan Groff got shortchanged song-wise in the movie, so he gets the first solo here. It's in the style of "Creep" by Radiohead and/or "The Air That I Breathe" by Albert Hammond and Mike Hazelwood. There's a violin and piano cover version on Youtube that's probably a good approximation of what they would do to it for a Disney animated musical fairy tale, if you can imagine it in a key suitable for Kristoff/Groff. Or you could go with the buzzsaw electric guitars, because I originally did intend for there to be f-bombs in this one (e.g., remove the "just" from "But I just can't take it" and insert one before "take" - it sounds sooo much better to Gen X ears), but I want to keep this rated T.**

 **From time to time, Elsa is going to have flashbacks triggered by certain phrases or events. Some she will be able to push out of her mind, but a few will just stop her cold. Heh heh. One of my upcoming "set pieces" features Elsa needing to stay awake for an extended period of time, so you will get to see Elsa all jacked up on caffeine and sugar. Once this story is completed, I do have ideas for a kind of "Domestic Assassin" AU meets "Taken" story (my version of Elsa wouldn't need a firearm but does have a coffee dependency and love for critters).**

 **While some royal families of the era had the resources to employ a court (chamber) orchestra, I really don't think Arendelle would have been able to pull that off, even before the gates closed. So they mainly played for their own entertainment, with maybe a few travelling performers putting on a concert once in a while.**


	28. Chapter 28

28\. Royal Pain

Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie had overheard the Queen and Minister Nilsson note the absence of the Ice Master. He discreetly scanned the room and verified that Kristoff had not yet returned, and then nonchalantly strolled over to d'Ambly while furtively gesturing to de Gercy to join him.

"Bjorgman has stepped out for some reason. Get over there now, d'Ambly, and show some support for the Princess," de Flahaut de La Billarderie directed.

The second son of the Marquis d'Ambly, however, looked like he could use some support himself. The wine at dinner, the brandy at the reception, and the Scotch whisky he had downed before even arriving at the castle were catching up with him. His family, with the tacit blessing of his country's political leaders, was pressuring him to try to win the Crown Princess over, much to his displeasure. Princess Anna was not his type, and he was very alarmed by Queen Elsa's eerie magic and acute intelligence. As much as Arendelle was the envy of other nations, he would rather not be stationed in the petty kingdom for any purpose.

"She is surrounded by high-ranking locals," de Gercy pointed out.

"At the moment, he only needs to be a friendly face amidst all the scowls," de Flahaut de La Billarderie asserted. "We know a few kind words at the right time can go a long way with Her Highness. This is just an introduction." The ambassador gave d'Ambly a nudge to set him off.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa watched the Frenchmen converse and inferred that they were making a gambit, as she presupposed they would. She peeked at Anna, moping in the band's alcove, to be sure that the Admiral, the Bishop, Kai, and Haugen were still by her side. She did not want d'Ambly to get a shot at a private dialogue with her sister until she could warn her about the young aristocrat. She had half a mind to send Nilsson over to Anna to alert her about d'Ambly's ultimate intentions, but as much as she trusted Nilsson to be scrupulous and vigilant with Arendelle's finances, the Minister of the Treasury was not the sort of person to inconspicuously deliver sensitive information to someone who was already upset. And she dared not go to Anna herself right now because it was apparent that she was the cause of Anna's problems tonight.

She checked the door again, hoping to catch Kristoff as soon as he came in. His presence would be the best deterrent - and the best balm for Anna's stung pride. The researchers and Nilsson could not help observing the Queen making assessments.

"I know this is a stupid question, Your Majesty, but are your hands cold?" ventured Nilsson. "You keep rubbing them."

Elsa immediately dropped her hands down by her sides. "No, Minister Nilsson. Just a nervous habit," she admitted somewhat ashamedly. She was merely exchanging one tic for another.

The silence stretched, and only Elsa seemed comfortable with it as she kept a watch on d'Ambly, who was loitering in Anna's vicinity, and on the main doors for Kristoff's reappearance. She also had half a mind to send someone to look for him. He might have gotten caught up in the children's division of dinner. Lurking behind his rough-hewn loner exterior was a man who would never think twice about showing kindness to a child, even if it was something as simple as wiping chocolate frosting off of cheeks or listening to an excited report about the evening's activities with Olaf.

Elsa looked over at Anna, who was finally responding to whatever it was that the Admiral had been saying to her, then to d'Ambly, then to the other two Frenchmen, then one last time at the doors. "Please excuse me," Elsa said to everyone around her, and walked off to ask a footman or two to go in search of Kristoff.

"A game of chess," Sinibaldo remarked, not wholly understanding what was going on, but keeping track of the positions of the human pieces.

"The Bishop is still on the board, but Her Majesty is missing one of her knights," Newark quipped, giving Anna and her sentinels his attention. He could see the Princess was becoming more animated again.

The Princess was, in actuality, becoming rather peeved by the quartet's attempts to cheer her up or edify her about her gaffes tonight. She really wanted to be by herself at the moment, or at least with someone to whom she could fully explain her side of events.

"Admiral, I understand that I shouldn't have done that at a formal event, but could you at least lecture Queen Elsa about her eating habits? Because she never really had anybody there before to correct her," Anna insisted, her heart quietly aching at the thought of her sister eating -or only picking at- so many meals alone in her room, served a limited menu for years in the name of "convenience," and now they had a queen who was, among other things, a gastronomic shut-in. "She barely touched her main course tonight, and she skipped last night's dinner altogether. She is such a ... such a finicky eight-year-old who will eat just five things and only if it's on her favorite plate."

"The Queen told us she ate more than usual for lunch, Your Highness, because she doesn't care for roast beef," Admiral Sverdrup elucidated.

"Oh, sure. A likely story," Anna said dismissively. "Do you know how many times she says 'I already ate' or 'I had a big lunch' in order to dodge trying something that's unusual by her standards? Really, really bizarre foods that _nobody_ else appreciates. For example, beef burgundy, paella, lasagna, and caviar. She drives the foreign embassies crazy. They pull out all the stops to return the favor, and she just says 'No, thank you,' and then they get stuck with _me_ as a guest." She looked pointedly at Haugen, who had to nod in corroboration. When the resident ambassadors extended invitations to a repast to reciprocate the castle's generosity, Anna had tried several times without success to set Elsa and Haugen up on a something that superficially resembled a dinner date if squinted at the right way.

"But the Queen did have two pieces of fish at lunch today, Your Highness," Kai said softly. "And yesterday she ate before she left to attend to the 'sudden urgent matter.' She mentioned something about not knowing how long it would take to deal with the issue."

Anna stared hard at Kai. _Naturally_ , Elsa would have chosen to eat sensibly and tell the truth about it on the day that Anna had planned a penalty. And just as naturally, none of the staff could be bothered to give her an update. "Kai, I _know_ you overheard us making the arrangements at lunch - and for the record, you didn't say anything to try to talk me out of it, _and_ you clearly didn't rat on me. Why didn't you tell me Elsa had a big lunch for real?" It took an effort to keep the anger out of her voice. The Admiral, the Bishop, and Haugen looked quizzically at the castle's major domo.

"Her Majesty ate after you did, Princess. You were in town for most of the afternoon, and then you took a nap," Kai explained.

"And when you sent Helga to wake me up, you couldn't have sent a message along with the ice? Just a little note for me to read after I got the ice cubes off of my ear?" Anna interrogated, her tone growing sharper. The Admiral, the Bishop, and Haugen looked even more quizzically at the royal handler.

"It did not occur to me, Your Highness," Kai replied with embarrassment. "I honestly didn't know it would have dissuaded you. When you set your mind on something, it can be very hard to stop you, ma'am."

Anna regarded the man she considered to be a surrogate uncle, the closest thing to a father figure that she had after the loss of her parents. The man who played with her when she was little if he had a chance, who helped her with her lessons, who always showed compassion whenever she was disciplined for some misbehavior or felt too ignored, who silently let her leave a foreigner she had just met in charge of Arendelle, and who allowed her to ride off after her surprisingly magical sister with nothing more than a cloak to wear over her coronation outfit.

"Has it ever dawned on anyone that maybe it only _seems_ like I have bad judgment because people don't ever give me enough information to make good decisions?" Anna snapped.

Deep down, she knew his statement about it being hard to stop her was valid; she _was_ the person who had refused to return to town, even after it was obvious that she had no clue where Elsa had gone, even after it was obvious that the snow was not going to melt once the sun rose, and even after she was separated from her horse. But her judgment certainly suffered from thirteen years' worth of lies, secrets, and silence; discovering that she had been kept out of the loop once again did not improve her disposition.

"I apologize, Your Highness," Kai said contritely. "I will take full responsibility for the debacle with the cake."

"No, you won't! It was totally a group effort," Anna contended. "And Elsa knows it." She pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought about how to start making it up to her sister. "Look, I need to get back to co-hosting this reception, to doing something to _help_ Elsa. She can't handle fifty-eight people by herself."

She squared her shoulders and steeled herself to enter the social fray again. She decided to start with the Khentiians, to ask them if their country received a lot of snow, to find out what their winter pastimes and traditions were. She stepped away from the nook and her fellow Arendellians, on the lookout for the exquisite tunics decorated with genuine gold and silver threads.

With slightly bleary eyes, d'Ambly saw his chance, unwanted as it was, present itself. With slightly unsteady legs, he walked forward to intercept the Princess and tried to think, with a slightly foggy mind, of something to say that would lead her to see him as an ally and someone she would like to get to know better. He stumbled unexpectedly into Anna's path, and she did not have enough time to avoid him. They bumped into each other, and the Frenchman spilled his brandy on both of them. For once, Anna was not the cause of a collision, but that did not stop d'Ambly from cursing in his native tongue. All heads immediately turned to see what had happened. Elsa was already striding towards the scene, as were de Flahaut de La Billarderie and de Gercy.

"D'Ambly!" admonished de Flahaut de La Billarderie.

"I cannot believe they want me to win your childish affection, brat! You are the crudest, stupidest imitation of a princesh I haf ever heard of! Seriously, were you raised in a barn? By a goat? Or maybe a mule? You are besht left with that stinking brute from the wild! But even the savage doeshn't want any part of you tonight!" d'Ambly loudly let loose, no longer able to restrain his frustration and discontent.

Anna froze in place as she heard the string of hurtful comments and realized that Kristoff was indeed nowhere in sight.

"Hey, mister, she's my sister!" Elsa called out just as loudly, stopping outside of arm's length from the Marquis' son. Everyone else, including the other Frenchmen, the guards, the military men, and the constables, now froze in place as well. They knew not to come between the Snow Queen and potential trouble.

"And you!" d'Ambly spat out as he fixed Elsa with a baleful gaze, because the powerful Queen was the sole reason his family and country wanted him to ingratiate himself with the awkward Princess. The alcohol, the notion that he still had diplomatic immunity, and the knowledge that he already failed fueled his audacity. "Alwaysh meddling! Alwaysh sending the good trade dealsh to your preferred minionsh! Alwaysh never quite threatening to threaten!"

Elsa considered this for a moment before nodding in bashful agreement. But there were no signs of her ice magic.

"D'Ambly!" reproved de Flahaut de La Billarderie.

"All businesh, all the time! Alwaysh a queen! You could not hold a real convershation ash a human bean if your life depended on it!" d'Ambly hotly continued.

Elsa pondered this briefly before nodding in exaggeratedly guilty agreement.

"Dear God, she's toying with him," Eliasz whispered hoarsely, and protectively placed himself in front of Debora and Zlata and slowly pushed them back. Waclaw shielded Zlata's side. John and Irene shared an anxious glance.

"D'Ambly!" castigated de Flahaut de La Billarderie.

"So superior, so controlled, so cold! Ice Queen! If a freak like you could ever find the capashity to love, you would melt away to nothing! Just like the Snow Maiden!" d'Ambly spewed.

Elsa smiled adorably at him, and there was a genuinely amused glint in her eyes.

"Shut up, man, shut up. She can kill you with a thought," Newark said under his breath, and Duffin and Sinibaldo felt their throats tighten. Papadopoulos clasped his hands together. Homberg gulped.

"D'Ambly!" upbraided de Flahaut de La Billarderie.

"All your lewd dreshes! But no one comsh to court _you_ becaush you would freesh off their-" d'Ambly's tirade was finally halted when de Flahaut de La Billarderie physically tackled him and clamped a hand over the young man's mouth.

De Gercy charged in and pinioned d'Ambly's left arm behind his back. The two senior French diplomats then manhandled the Marquis' son towards the ball room doors, with a castle guard and one of the constables in tow. All the other guests watched in varying degrees of shock.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Elsa said dryly as a parting shot, as d'Ambly was literally dragged out by the French ambassador and his chief of staff. Once the Queen was sure there would be no further altercation, she turned to Anna. "Are you-"

Elsa didn't get the chance to complete her question. Anna rushed from the room, fighting a losing battle against her tears. Elsa cringed and hurried after her sister, addressing the crowd as she left. "Ladies and gentlemen, in keeping with Arendelle royal tradition, tonight's reception will end earlier than anticipated. Master Kai has the floor." Her ice cape grew almost absurdly long, perhaps her only detectable slip-up of the night, as she picked up speed. The newcomers to Arendelle castle stared in astonishment.

"And in a thrilling come-from-behind victory, the French win this evening's public disturbance contest!" crowed the Visby ambassador a few beats after Elsa disappeared from view.

Rogalund smiled smugly and beckoned to the Hannoverian ambassador, who reached into his pocket and glumly passed over several coins to the Foreign Minister. The Coronans likewise demanded their payout from the Spaniards and Swedes. The Daloans and Khentiians had to chuckle, despite the subdued atmosphere.

Eliasz heaved a shaky sigh. "Now what?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else. None of the veteran guests seemed to be leaving. Kai made no announcements.

"Oh, just give Her Majesty fifteen minutes, and she'll probably be back to say a better good-night," Nilsson reassured him. "It took about six or seven receptions and balls until the Queen could make it through one without requiring a little, uh, breather before the scheduled conclusion, so we're used to her leaving and coming back. I'm actually very proud of her tonight for standing her ground. She's finally getting the hang of it."

"But what about Princess Anna?" Debora wondered.

"She'll be fine. She's more resilient than you can imagine," Nilsson pledged with surprising earnestness. "The Queen and the Ice Master will have her back in good spirits before her bedtime. If the Ice Master is all right, that is. It's been a long lavatory break. I hope he didn't fall in."

The footman that Elsa had sent in search of Kristoff had finally found him in the salon around about the same time that Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie had wrestled Monsieur d'Ambly to the ground. The footman notified him that the Queen requested his presence back in the ball room. _Naturally_ , Elsa would notice that he was missing, but she probably needed his help with Anna, so self-pity would have to be put on hold.

Once back out in the hall, he could see what looked like two men hustling a third man towards the castle's front entrance. His stomach churned as his mind conjured several scenarios, none of them good. "Anna!" he half-shouted, and he broke into a run back to the ball room. Sure enough, his girlfriend dashed out into the hall soon after. "Anna!" he fully shouted and barreled towards her.

"Kristoff? Kristoff!" Anna sounded near tears and sprinted towards him. They met and wrapped each other in an ardent embrace. She buried her face in his chest. He lead her back towards the salon.

"I'll give you two some privacy," the footman said and scampered off.

"Anna!" Elsa's voice rang out. At first she looked in the wrong direction but then swiveled her head and saw her sister and Kristoff about to enter the salon. She swiftly coursed towards them, high heels and form-fitting dress notwithstanding, her ice cape now reaching a ridiculous length. "Anna!"

Kristoff felt a twinge of panic, uncertain if he should be keeping the sisters apart or bringing them together. He berated himself for letting his anger get the best of him, for leaving the ball room, for not knowing what had happened to Anna, for not preventing it.

"Elsa," Anna sniffled softly and stopped in the salon's doorway. He took that as a sign that Anna wasn't running from Elsa, and felt a surge of relief.

The Queen skidded to a standstill a few meters from them. "Anna, are you all right?" she asked urgently.

"I'm fine. I just need a few minutes," Anna maintained. Right now, she didn't trust herself to talk cogently with her sister after the things that d'Ambly had said about her and Kristoff and _especially_ Elsa, and how Elsa almost seemed to encourage him.

Elsa looked Kristoff in the eye, and he understood her unspoken command as clearly as anything Sven ever said: " _Just_ _take care of my sister_." He nodded meaningfully.

Elsa turned to go back to the guests and gasped when saw the extent of her ice cape. It ranged almost all the way back to the ball room doors. "Argh, I hate it when this happens," she muttered, and made a compressing motion with her hands. The cape shrank to its normal size, and she paced off. Kristoff and Anna managed smiles as they entered the salon.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay?" Kristoff asked solicitously as he closed the door and squeezed her hand. "I think I saw somebody being thrown out of the castle. That's a pretty extreme measure."

"I'm fine," Anna repeated. "He just bumped into me - _not_ the other way around, honest- and then started to rant about how I was a crude and stupid brat and raised in a barn and..." She didn't know if or how to tell him the other parts. "He sounded drunk."

"Who was it?" Kristoff asked, and clenched his fists behind his back.

"One of the Frenchmen. D'Ambly. He's new here. Ambassador de Flageolet de La Billet-doux and Monsieur de Geezer were the ones who threw him out," Anna told him, using their own private nicknames for the top French envoys. "So I don't think he'll be sticking around Arendelle."

"Wait. The guards didn't do anything?" Kristoff queried.

"Weelll, they might have, but with Elsa standing so close to him, they didn't risk getting in the way. You know, the 'Don't get between the Snow Queen and her target' rule," Anna said nervously.

"Wow! What did she do to him?" As upset as Kristoff was, he didn't wish what happened to Anna out on the fjord on anybody, at least not for mere words.

"Um, nothing," Anna replied evasively.

"Wait. So you're telling me that this guy was insulting you, and Elsa was standing next to him, and she didn't do anything? Not even blast him with wind?"

"Weelll, he switched pretty quickly to insulting her, and she was just kind of agreeing with him and smiling." Anna was running out of sidesteps.

"That's weird," Kristoff pronounced. "Unless he was saying the usual drunken French abuse, like 'Your mother was a hamster!' and 'Your father smelt of elderberries!' Then it's pretty funny to egg them on."

Anna sighed. With so many other witnesses, Kristoff was bound to hear the whole story, making it pointless to lie to him or to try to leave the worst parts out. "Oh, he just said she always acts so superior and controlled, and is a freak who would melt if she ever felt love," she said as airily as she could. "And that no one comes to court her because she would freeze off some part of their anatomy. He didn't get to finish that sentence, and I don't want to put words in his mouth."

Kristoff looked stunned. "International relations," he said caustically. "And _he_ said _you_ were crude and stupid? What is it with these people?"

"I think he was on a mission to try get my, you know, interest," Anna said somberly. "It's like _him_ all over again."

Kristoff did not need her to be more specific and pulled her into a hug. If Anna wasn't in need of comfort right now, he would be marching off to the French embassy to do something rash. He hoped that Elsa would attend to d'Ambly's immediate departure from Arendelle. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there," he murmured.

"Really, Kristoff, where _were_ you?" Anna asked, partially vexed. "I got so worried when he ... when he pointed out that you were gone."

Kristoff sighed. "I needed to take a break. It was too stuffy in there."

"Uh huh," Anna said suspiciously. "You were there when I played for Mrs. Mandelbaum, but then I lost track of you after I made a fool of myself. Again."

"Okay, I wanted to punch some of the ambassadors," he fumed. "They said rude things while you were making a fool of yourself. Again."

"Kristoff-" Anna began.

"Listen, Feisty Pants, _you're_ the one who told me that the really snobby ones would be at dinner, but then you turn around and give them opportunities to rip you!" Kristoff accused.

"Look, a few things didn't go the way I thought they would," Anna said defensively.

"Uh huh," Kristoff retaliated. "You really thought Elsa wasn't going to say anything to the maid at dinner? You didn't get the hint when Elsa said she didn't have the time or the inclination to take piano lessons? You don't remember Grand Pabbie telling you not to push her?"

"Sometimes she needs to be pushed," Anna claimed.

"At a formal occasion with a whole bunch of people watching?" Kristoff prodded.

"I said a few things didn't go the way I thought they would," Anna said weakly. "Sheesh, I didn't come in here to get yelled at. I already feel bad enough about everything tonight."

"I'm not yelling at you. I'm trying to help you remember how to think things through," he clarified, seeing that she was in a state somewhere between dejection and humiliation.

"I don't want to think about what I did wrong right now. I don't want to think about how I've always been kind of an un-princess," Anna said dolefully and stared at the ground. Being called an "imitation of a princess" had been a direct blow to her self-esteem. She had sometimes felt exactly like that during the period when the gates were shut.

"Hey, it's a good thing you're kind of an un-princess. Because I don't think I could have fallen for a proper princess," he said soothingly and tilted her chin up so that he could look her in the face. "And a proper princess wouldn't have fallen for a commoner like me."

"You're an un-commoner," Anna told him, some of her sparkle returning.

"That's not a word," he teased.

"Neither is 'un-princess,' but you didn't say anything about that," Anna bantered back.

"That's because it sounds so much more endearing than 'royal pain,' " Kristoff joked.

She shot him a faux angry look, and put her feelings into a song:

ANNA:

 _I know I'm a pest, wasn't born to be a queen._

 _I try so hard to behave, but I always make a scene._

 _They taught me manners, so I shouldn't complain._

 _Still, all these rules are such a royal pain._

 _But you look past my flaws and see my heart is good;_

 _You're the first who ever really understood._

 _Because you love me for me._

 _With you, I don't have to pretend._

 _I can trust you with my heart._

 _Our characters just blend._

 _Because you love me for me._

 _Some may say it's strange._

 _But there's not one thing_

 _About you I would change._

Kristoff sang in reply, relieved that she seemed to have bounced back. He took her hands in his and pulled her close, and they danced in a slow, circular, informal shuffle.

KRISTOFF:

 _I've had doubts whether I was good enough for you._

 _But I can't give up after all we've been through._

 _You don't judge me, and you overlook my quirks._

 _It feels so good to be in a relationship that works._

 _I've felt the royal pain of already losing you twice._

 _Whatever it takes to keep you safe, I'll make the sacrifice._

 _Because you love me for me._

 _I don't have to be a prince._

KRISTOFF-AS-SVEN:

 _When I do my Sven-voice_

 _You never ever wince._

KRISTOFF:

 _Because you love me for me,_

 _And forgive me when I'm gruff._

 _You know that deep down_

 _It's really just a bluff._

ANNA and KRISTOFF:

 _Because you love me for me._

 _It's like a fairy tale come true._

 _I can't imagine how my life_

 _Would be if I hadn't met you._

 _Because you love me for me._

 _Some may say it's strange._

 _But there's not one thing_

 _About you I would change._

"Feeling better, Sunflower Princess?" Kristoff asked with a shy smile.

"Yeah," Anna sighed contentedly, snuggling into his shoulder, "but I'm not going back to the reception, even if it's not over."

"I think I'm calling it a night, too. I'll go sing Sven his lullaby, and turn in." Kristoff fully intended to spend the night in Sven's stall, which had been furnished with a comfortable cot for him to use when he so desired. Right now the simplicity and solitude of the stables was attractive.

"You spoil that reindeer," Anna ribbed.

"Hey, we grew up together. He's my alter ego," Kristoff rejoined, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

They walked to the salon's door, and he opened it slowly. They both peeked out, checking to see if anyone was in the hall. Neither one of them wanted to meet any exiting guests. The corridor was empty, and so they made a break for it.

Kristoff hastened to the castle's entrance. Anna headed towards the stairs to her bedroom, but hesitated by the ball room doors. She felt awful about leaving Elsa by herself to do damage control. However, she didn't believe there was any way she could help her sister at the moment; in fact, she strongly suspected that she would only set off another social disaster somehow if she walked through those doors again tonight. So she beat a retreat to the royal residence level before the guests began to flow out.

It was well that she did, because Elsa had wrapped up her apology for all of the tumult and her assurance that Princess Anna was all right and merely needed a little peace and quiet to compose herself, and was now bidding everyone a good evening. The remaining guests, for their part, at least acted polite and gracious, although Elsa knew the gossiping would begin as soon as they left her presence, and that it wouldn't be long before reports, some much more fanciful and inaccurate than others, were propagating throughout town and beyond.

"I would like to remind the Daloan and Khentiian delegations that breakfast will be served in the main dining hall from seven o'clock until half past nine. Please speak with Master Kai if you have any questions or problems," Elsa said.

She turned to the floating banners of ice fabric and was about to wave them out of existence when Father Papadopoulos timidly cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, if you don't mind, may I keep one as a souvenir?" he asked.

"Certainly, Father," Elsa said with a sincere smile, and the wave of her hand merely rolled the squares of cloth up. The priest tucked one under his arm. Nasu and Jamang claimed two more, and Debora collected the last one.

The people who had checked their gifts from dinner at the ball room door stopped to retrieve them. "Oh, I almost forgot the tripods that go with the telescopes," Elsa said to them, and with an up-swinging motion of her hand, eight tall folding tripods leaned against the wall, and eight boxes made of ice to facilitate carrying the microscopes and telescopes appeared on the table. Newark and Homberg bowed.

"Many thanks again, Your Majesty. I shall put this to use tonight," Homberg said excitedly.

"I'm glad to hear that, Mr. Homberg. I look forward to your equipment review and your assessment of our observatory," Elsa said, pleased that _somebody_ was having a good evening.

The guests began to file out the door, bowing or curtsying as they left. Elsa smiled and made eye contact with each one of them, while willing her magic to be patient for just a few more minutes.

Oddvar Rogalund instinctively knew to be the last one to go. He looked at the Queen inquiringly.

"Minister Rogalund, at your earliest convenience tomorrow please inform Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie that Monsieur d'Ambly can either set forth without delay from Arendelle of his own accord, or he can be declared a _persona non grata_ and be expelled," Elsa said calmly. "As luck would have it, there should be one or two ships that are sailing out in the general direction of France tomorrow afternoon. Also, I wish to talk, preferably in a neutral location with many diplomatic witnesses, about this incident with the Ambassador."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Rogalund said with a dutiful bow before warily adding: "But please consider all the consequences before speaking with the Ambassador."

"I already have, Minister. Fortunately, this is will be one convershation besht held ash the Queen and not ash a human bean," Elsa mocked the young Frenchmen's slurred diction, "so I will be in my element."

Rogalund felt decidedly uneasy, especially about the "be in my element" portion and the way she said it, but he nevertheless nodded and went through the ball room doors.

"Yuhnf!" Elsa grunted and exhaled noisily once she was alone at last. Typically, this would be the time when she could finally relax, but there was still the small matter of finding out what was bothering Anna and figuring out what to do about it.

She left the ball room and advanced to the stairs that lead to the family's private living area. She stopped at the foyer at the base of the steps; this space was usually where she created her ice sculptures for the day. She definitely needed to discharge some magic before tending to her sister, since she had been keeping such a tight rein on it. Rather than focusing on the subject matter tonight, she merely guided her magic to generate ice shapes and otherwise let her emotions and powers merge to do the rest.

The results were a _lot_ of sculptures of the North Mountain, both with and without her Ice Palace. One of them was so large that its weight fractured the legs of the side table that was supposed to support it, and it crashed to the floor with a thunderous thud.

"Oh, no. Not again!" Elsa chided herself.

She could hear fast footsteps approaching. "Who goes there? Your Majesty, are you there?" shouted a guard.

"I'm fine! That was me. Just a little dimensional error," she said, trying to be casual about it. She could hear many more footsteps approaching. The chief of the second shift guards cautiously poked his head around a corner. "It's all right! Stand down! Well done!"

Kai arrived on the scene, and he and the shift chief stared wide-eyed at the crushed table and the size of the sculpture that caused it. "Sometimes I forget how heavy these things are," Elsa fibbed and reduced the scale of mountain's likeness. "Well done. Nothing to see here. You may go."

The guards turned to go back to their posts, but stopped and looked up when the Princess' voice sounded from the top of the stairs. "Elsa? Was that you?"

"Yes. Don't worry about it. I'll be there in a minute," Elsa said loudly. The guards resumed walking back to their stations. "Master Kai, we need to talk about the kitchen and serving staff tomorrow."

"Understood, Your Majesty," the portly overseer said deferentially.

"Good night, Kai," Elsa said softly.

"Good night, Queen Elsa," Kai said warmly and left.

Elsa looked sheepishly at the remains of the hapless side table, and picked up the re-sized sculpture and placed it by some others. She climbed the stairs, hoping that the mishaps were done for the evening, because it was time for a chat with her little sister.

 **Author's Notes - The obligatory sappy love duet is in the style of "You Love Who You Love" from** ** _Bonnie & Clyde_** **(music by Frank Wildhorn, lyrics by Don Black, book by Ivan Menchell), an example was uploaded to Youtube by americangal5. Of course, you have to imagine this one as a duet between a soprano and a tenor, not a soprano and an alto, and remove the country-and-western twang in their voices, and switch out the regular fiddle for a Hardanger fiddle. Also, imagine Anna and Kristoff slow dancing just like a couple of mismatched teenagers (linebacker guy and petite Key Club girl) at a high school prom. I admit I am not too good at obligatory sappy love duets, but doing something more sarcastic or playful would be out of place in this context, and I wanted to get it out of the way because it motivates/explains the relationship between Anna and Kristoff and is, unfortunately, obligatory.**

 **This chapter condenses and/or inverts many components of Hans' part of the plot from the movie. Pushing Anna's and Kristoff's buttons is so easy! More about their characters and relationship will be explored. E.g., just how much of Anna's bad judgment is "natural" and how much of it is due to caretakers keeping her in the dark and maybe subtly discouraging too much analytical thought - or perhaps giving in to her because many times it's easier to do that than to properly discipline and teach an energetic and highly emotional child?**

 **"Hey, mister, she's my sister!" is a shout-out to** ** _Rent_** **and one my earliest "set pieces." If Disney could work that line into the sequel and let Idina Menzel use just a slight Noo Yawk accent, I would buy five more tickets, even if the rest of the movie is junk. "Your mother was a hamster!" and "Your father smelt of elderberries!" is, of course, a shout-out to** ** _Monty Python and the Holy Grail/Spamalot_** **. The** ** _Snegurochka_** **story (Snow Maiden feels love, immediately melts) seemingly did not exist yet, but it certainly sounds like something that would exist in old folklore.**

 **Elsa's expanding ice cape should remind you of the old toilet paper unrolling gag. When the story finally reaches Tuesday, Elsa will have serious words with Kai; when we get to Wednesday, Gerda takes her turn. Too many fanfics let them off the hook, and while they were just employees and the circumstances in Arendelle's castle were very peculiar, most real-life employees would be summarily fired for the level of incompetence and rudeness they displayed in the movie. I mean, there's soup and hot glögg in the hall, but they just shut the gates in the face of the guy who brings Princess Anna in from the frozen wilderness? Not even a "Want to warm up by a fire for a while, sir?" This is why I have chosen to work in the real-life discrimination against the Sami; it's the perfect explanation for why they shut Kristoff out.**

 **I kinda apologize for all the original characters, but they will serve some purpose. Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff** ** _need_** **to interact with other people. That's how we get insight into their personalities and advance the plot. Homberg (fellow nature lover) and Papadopoulos (generally non-judgmental good guy) will be Kristoff's confidants. Debora and Irene (mother figures) will be Anna's confidants. John (therapist) and Duffin (surrogate big sister figure and quasi fan-girl) will be Elsa's confidants to a lesser extent, because Elsa still internalizes a lot of things. And I need some traitors and schemers and good-hearted but gullible people to thicken the plot and provide appropriate misdirection for my sleight of hand. Plus, when Arendelle is in dire straights, you need to care about more than just three characters. Heh heh. There is a method to my madness. I'm not making this up as I go along, everything has been mapped out. It's just a matter of typing the bleeping thing.**

 **I also kinda apologize about the length. The first week of the story will be extremely dense in order to set up the framework for the rest. I read someplace that when they added up everybody's contributions, "Frozen" took something like 3,000,000 hours to make. Just for the production of the actual movie that made it to theaters, and not counting all the false starts over the decades. The "Let It Go" sequence alone was something like 4000 computers rendering frames non-stop for several months. There were frames that took 132 hours to render! Five and a half days for ONE FRAME! And they weren't using Chromebooks, you know. So, yes, detail takes time, but I think it's worth it in the long run. I'm fine with this being shared beyond so long as nobody is profiting - unless you're a Disney exec and you want to buy some of my ideas; then you can profit all you want. :-P**

 **My attempts at drawing are sketchy at best. Rolls eyes. If anyone knows an artist who wants to tackle Elsa riding Sleipnir over the mountains (or any other scene), they can have at it. My vision can be summarized: Picture the mountains at the 6:07 mark in the movie with some kind of ice bridge connecting two peaks; picture the statue of Secretariat that's at Belmont Park (there's an example of it in Secretariat's entry at Britannica dot com); and then picture Elsa tucked up like a jockey but with her ice cape and snow streaming behind. But if somebody else has a better concept, go for it. So long as Sleipnir looks like a Thoroughbred and not like a Fjord horse. Because Fjord horses just look too plump and sweet-natured, even in real life.**

 **Next chapter is "Sisterly Fluff," I promise.**


	29. Chapter 29

29\. Sisterly Fluff, Volume 1

Elsa performed her evening ablutions with an ice cyclone and transformed her dress into a nightgown and light-weight satin-weave robe before knocking on Anna's door. This particular conversation was a job for a human being and not a queen. Or so she fervently hoped. She abhorred having to pull rank on her sister.

"Come on in," called Anna's voice.

Elsa opened the door and regarded her sister. Anna was half sitting and half leaning on the bed, with a nervous and uncertain expression on her face. She, too, had changed into a nightgown, and her hair was loose, making her look even younger.

Elsa quickly crossed the space between them and gave her sister a heart-felt hug. Anna loosened up and rested her head on Elsa's cool shoulder. Even after more than a year, it was still luxurious to have her big sister back in her life - really in her life, and not just an aloof, enigmatic presence haunting the perimeter.

"Are you okay?" Elsa asked again, looking worried.

"Yes," Anna replied with a trace of laughter.

"Is Kristoff okay?" Elsa queried.

"Yes. He just needed to take a break. He said it was too stuffy in there," Anna prevaricated. If Kristoff wanted to, he could tell Elsa about whatever he had heard the ambassadors say; Anna was not about to bring it up right now, especially since she didn't know the specifics.

Whereas Anna had been instantly skeptical of Kristoff's original explanation, Elsa accepted it at face value, and nodded in empathy. The Princess had to smile tenderly at how the Queen could be so artless in some ways and yet astute in others.

"Are ... you _and_ Kristoff okay?" Elsa tentatively posed. She always felt gauche asking her little sister about the status of the romance.

"Yes. As good as ever, maybe even better," Anna confirmed.

"Was Grand Pabbie really okay after I left last night?" Elsa trawled, hoping she could lead Anna into discussing the old troll's warning.

"Yes. At least he seemed to be," Anna said.

"Did he say anything more about what caused that shock?" Elsa probed.

"Nope. He just said-" Anna sharply checked herself. Elsa gave Anna an interested look. Anna sighed, knowing that she had just given her clueless sister a clue and that the hunt was on unless she wanted to flat out lie. After the Great Thaw, they had promised each other to henceforth be as open and honest as possible. "He just said something that pertains to me."

"And you obviously don't want to talk about it," Elsa said with a playful grin. If one of them was holding out on the other, it was usually her, and Anna was the inexorable investigator. Now the tables were turned, with the added twist that she already knew Anna's secret; the true challenge would be to persuade her to divulge it without betraying Kristoff. "Was it about some kind of you _and_ Kristoff thing?" As a test, she gave Anna an easy way out, since she very much respected Anna's privacy on that topic, and Anna knew the questioning would stop if she answered affirmatively.

"No," Anna said curtly, and plopped down on her bed.

"Are you _sure_ that you understand it fully, that it wasn't some kind of riddle that maybe we should try to decipher together?" Elsa asked innocuously.

"Yes," Anna said with annoyance. She was irritated that she didn't know _why_ she was balking at telling Elsa about Grand Pabbie's warning.

"Is it what's bothering you tonight?"

"Nothing's bothering me," Anna insisted. "Well, getting insulted like that was a little bit upsetting. And finding out yet again that some more of my memories aren't real was a little bit disconcerting. And withholding your dessert when you really did eat a big lunch was a little bit embarrassing. But other than that, I'm fine. You've had a much worse evening than I have. Elsa, I am _so_ sorry!"

"It's all right. I think I will survive the temporary deficiency of chocolate in my system," Elsa said dryly. "But may I ask why you felt the need to punish me thusly in front of guests, Princess?"

"You haven't been eating enough lately," Anna scolded.

"Assuming for the sake of argument that your claim is accurate -which it isn't, by the way- you do realize that depriving me of food might not be the most apt solution?" Elsa asked mischievously.

"Hey, if I didn't do a good enough job cleaning my plate, I didn't get dessert!"

"When did you ever not clean your plate?" Elsa asked with a laugh.

"Plenty of times. You just weren't..." Anna trailed off.

"... There," Elsa finished softly. "Fair point. But why tonight with all the ambassadors, professors, officers, and council members as an audience? I know you have a reputation for unpredictability to uphold, but still."

Anna stuck out her tongue at her big sister, who responded with a giggle. "Father told me that misconduct should be corrected as soon as it happens, so that there's no confusion about why you're being disciplined."

"I think that philosophy applies mostly to little children and not to reasonable adults," Elsa pointed out. "I also don't think he meant doing something in front of high-status company, either. Not that you had much experience with high-status company when you were growing up."

"I didn't think it all the way through," Anna admitted. "I'm just used to you keeping a stiff upper lip in public - or running out of a room." Elsa stuck out her tongue at her sister. "I guess missing out on chocolate is a bigger deal to you than being called a freak who can't love." She gave Elsa a hard stare.

"Absolutely," Elsa confessed with a straight face.

Anna lobbed a pillow at her sister's head. The Queen easily caught it and tossed it back. "Seriously, Elsa, it was like you were agreeing with him! In front of high-status company!"

"It's called giving someone enough rope to hang himself. It's an underhanded tactic, but also an ancient one. When there's diplomatic immunity involved, a lot of times it's the only way to get rid of a jerk," Elsa elucidated. "The guards and constables couldn't do anything to him unless he got physically violent. Neither could I."

"Wait, what?"

"Diplomats get special legal exemptions and protections. Even if he had deliberately hurt someone in full view of everyone at the reception, we couldn't put him on trial or punish him unless France waived his immunity; throwing him out of Arendelle is as much as I can do to him -and I did- without France's permission. I'm pretty sure I already told you about this."

"You did. It still sounds stupid."

"I would never send one of our people as an emissary without a guarantee about how he or she will be treated. Not every country has the same theories about what makes for good laws and a fair criminal justice system. For example, Arendelle is currently an absolute monarchy, with the exception of religion - and even that exclusion is based more on good manners than anything else. I can change the laws here at my whim; I can overrule our judges and juries at any time. Clearly, you can see how that could be abused, and why foreign lands would be reluctant to dispatch envoys here without safeguards in place."

"Listen, after tonight, they can all go back where they came from, and it would be fine by me," Anna huffed.

"C'mon, I thought you liked the open gates," Elsa rejoined. "They're not all bad. And we have family ties to Visby, Öland, and Corona. Plus, the Coronans are going to be trading in chocolate, so we _can't_ get rid of them." Elsa also plopped down on Anna's bed.

"I take it you had a hand in brokering the deal for your preferred minions?"

"I merely suggested the Coronans to the Daloans. No _active_ meddling on my part," Elsa maintained.

"Why don't the Daloans sell it here themselves?" Anna asked, genuinely somewhat curious.

"It's a long story that would make your eyes glaze over," Elsa said wryly. Anna feigned falling into a stupor. "Suffice it to say, the Daloans live inland, and their coastal neighbors, who haven't always been nice to them in the past, are now more or less French client states. _And_ they've been getting only a pittance for their crop, thanks to middlemen from Weselton."

"Oooh, I despise those guys - wait, did you just make chocolate more expensive?" Anna asked, genuinely somewhat concerned.

Elsa rolled her eyes. "I doubt it. The Weasels' price mark up was truly outrageous. Besides, I'm willing to pay more for chocolate if that means the Daloans don't need to resort to slavery to grow cocoa."

"Slavery?" Anna asked in dismay.

"Yeah. Like I said, it's a long story, but it looks like it will have a happy ending for everybody. Except Weselton, which is almost a happy ending by itself."

"Say, did the Daloans bring any samples with them? You know, cocoa beans fresh from the farm or whatever?" Anna had the beginnings of a plan to make amends for the dessert fiasco.

Elsa nodded and stretched out on the bed.

"What are we going to do with them?" Anna gushed.

"Top men and women are working on it," Elsa assured her, and clasped her hands behind her head.

"Growing them or turning them into chocolate?" Anna asked.

"I don't think we can keep the hothouses warm enough in winter with our present equipment."

"Why couldn't you have had tropical magic?"

Anna's bedroom was immediately turned into an ice-and-snow facsimile of a beach lined with coconut palms. The bed was engulfed in a snow drift that had the same texture as fine sand; and touching the foot of the bed, a thick sheet of ice with dainty wavelets frozen in place represented the sea. The trees were made of ice and had extraordinarily lifelike detail to their trunks and fronds. The clusters of coconuts, however, were the heads of smiling snowmen.

"Good enough?" Elsa asked pertly.

"No. And those heads are kinda creepy," Anna critiqued. "Very creepy, actually. Really, couldn't you make it warm enough to grow cocoa here?"

"Even if I could, it would adversely affect our other crops and other livelihoods," Elsa stated.

"What about a little grove? Just in one dell?"

The imitation beach vanished. Elsa closed her eyes and grimaced, and Anna's jaw dropped in astonishment as she felt the ambient coolness of the early autumn evening heat up perceptibly. The Snow Queen made a noise like she was struggling with an extremely heavy load before breathing out raggedly. The temperature in the room rapidly returned to normal.

"Oh, wow, that's hard," Elsa panted hoarsely and slumped her head back on a pillow. "Not at all like reversing the cold that I make. No cocoa plantation for us, sorry."

"That was still pretty awesome, though," Anna praised. "And maybe it'll get easier as your power grows if you keep practicing. It's fantastic that your magic can do all this stuff. Like being able to detect poison."

Elsa laughed. "Oh, it can't detect poison. At least, I don't think it can."

"But at dinner, you and that scientist said that the Whoeverans tested you and that your magic will automatically ice over anything you touch that's poisoned," Anna reminded.

"I made the Kakrafoonans and that poison test up," Elsa revealed with a chuckle.

"Wait, what?"

"There's no such place as Kakrafoon, and there was no such test. It's pure fiction. I put it in with the real research papers, where it can be read by anyone and widely disseminated, to deter people from trying to poison me, since that's probably my biggest vulnerability. This is a huge state secret, in case you didn't already come to that conclusion. Do _not_ tell anyone, not even Kristoff or Olaf," Elsa ordered, suddenly sounding stern and looking Anna in the eye.

"You're a stinker!" Anna exclaimed, not sure if she should be impressed or troubled by her sister's cunning and talent for deception.

"Yes, I'm exploiting my policy of transparency to camouflage and spread a lie, but this has the potential to save my life, and the lives of the people that the would-be poisoner might take as collateral damage in order to kill me. I'm glad that Professor Newark studied it and mentioned it at dinner, because I want a country like Myrcia to think that I'm impervious to an attempt at a sneak assassination," Elsa asserted. "This is a _good_ lie."

"I guess," Anna said morosely.

Elsa regretted letting Anna in on the ruse. "Look, I know how you feel about lies and secrets, but please understand that the Queen's gotta do what the Queen's gotta do to keep the country running and everyone safe."

"I get it," Anna grumbled, "but I wish you didn't have to do all this boring or complicated or sly Queen stuff."

"Somebody in the family has to work," Elsa joked, but as soon as she saw the look on Anna's face, she regretted saying that, too.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Anna asked sourly.

"Uh, that I have to earn my keep, and sometimes that entails doing boring, complicated, or sly things, just like most other jobs. This isn't a fairy tale where the royal family somehow lives a life of opulence and perpetual leisure without doing anything to directly sustain that kind of existence or to justify taking other people's money to pay for it. Beyond killing a dragon or a witch -who were probably merely misunderstood, innocent bystanders- every dozen or so generations, that is." Elsa saw that she was just putting herself deeper in the hole. "Hey, I'm not saying you don't do anything. You're my Minister of Society. You help me find out what the problems are in Arendelle and how well my solutions are working. You're also our Chief Morale Officer, and you have a fantastic knack for rallying people to a cause. You're a great hostess, party planner, and tour guide. You're my Official Bicycle Riding And Other Common Recreational Pastimes Instructor."

"Shut up," Anna said with an affectionate smile, but her eyes were wistful.

"Anna, is this what's been bothering you lately?" Elsa asked, turning on her side to face her sister and propping herself up on an elbow. "That you feel like you don't have a job?"

"Nothing has been bothering me lately. And it's perfectly natural for me to feel like I don't have a job, because I _don't_ have a job - not a _real_ job like you and Kristoff and Stefanie and just about every other adult has," Anna rationalized, looking down at the bedspread.

"Anna, there is a very simple way to fix the problem. I've told you that you can be my administrative assistant. It's a _real_ job," Elsa encouraged as she sat up and rested her back against the headboard. "I was one for father for years. That's how I learned the ropes. In fact, you _should_ come to work with me, now that I've formally named you my heir and my regent."

This did not seem to lift Anna's spirits at all, either. Elsa was beginning to get flustered; she knew she wasn't the best communicator, so she wasn't sure if she was totally misreading Anna and making a hash of the conversation, or if Anna was being extra difficult.

"Or you could become an apprentice in whatever trade you'd like. Or you could study at the university," Elsa offered. "There are lots of courses that could teach you how to really make a difference in people's lives. You could take a medical cla-"

"I'm not good with structure," Anna interrupted.

"You know that we have a lot of courses that have an experimental or free-form aspect. Things with practical applications or creative elements," Elsa argued. "I thought you'd love learning in a group setting."

"I'm also not good with being compared to other people," Anna brooded.

"Anna, it's not about being compared to other people. It's about learning! It's not a contest! It's about acquiring knowledge and skills for yourself, for your own benefit. It doesn't matter if it takes you half as long or twice as long as other people to get it. Well, okay, it would matter if you had to pay out of your own pocket to attend classes or needed to quickly acquire some means to support yourself, but since you don't, there is nothing to be anxious about."

"That is so easy for you to say, Magical Queen Genius the Show-Off!"

"You are not a dunce, Anna! All you need to do is apply yourself. You can do it!"

"You know what? I don't think you care about what _I_ can do or what _I_ want. I think you're pushing this because it's something _you_ want to do!" Anna said snidely.

"You _know_ how wrong you are about me not caring about you! But you're absolutely right that I would _love_ to have _THE OPPORTUNITY THAT YOU ARE WASTING_!" Elsa roared. A gust of cold wind buffeted the drapes of bed's canopy and ruffled Anna's hair, breaking up the quarrel. Elsa quickly jumped off the bed, and made for the door. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that or yell."

"No, wait, please!" Anna pleaded, also getting off the bed. "I was out of line! Don't go, Elsa! I'm so sorry! I'm the one being obnoxious! I know you care about me!"

"Anna, please tell me what's bothering you lately. Really, please tell me, Sunflower," Elsa implored.

"You didn't get a happy ending." Although it was said barely above a whisper, Elsa started as if Anna had shouted it in her ear.

 **Author's Notes - Chapters 29 and 30 should be considered a single entity, but since it amounts to 11K+ words with notes, and my browser and/or the fanfic website choked on it, I'm splitting it in two parts. This was the best "seam" I could find. Now I know how Tarantino feels.**

 **I'm throwing y'all a lot of curveballs in this, so get ready. Elsa's being cutesy with Kakrafoon and the poison detection test. Will it come back to bite her? Keep tuning in to find out!**

 **I hinted earlier when Elsa was talking with the Daloans that she could raise the temperature, with limitations. I figured that if she can undo the cold she makes, and freeze and thaw naturally-occurring water (presumably even in winter), as well as create and destroy matter, _as well_ as create sentient, sapient, ambulatory snowmen, she should be able to affect the natural weather, with the limitation that it's very hard for her to to work in her "opposite" direction. There will be more about enthalpy and entropy later on. It'll be fun. She's like the Magneto of thermodynamics (and a little bit of stat mech), with the added bonus of being able to create material to work with. Although it's really neat to have Elsa play with some naturally-occurring materials, too. Niobium/columbium, anyone?**


	30. Chapter 30

30\. Sisterly Fluff, Volume 2

"I'm sorry, I'm confused. What are you talking about?" Elsa asked in bewilderment.

"You summed it up best yourself: You do all the work while I get all the playtime!" Anna lamented.

"Anna, that was said tongue-in-cheek!" Elsa protested.

"I get the brawny but sensitive and sweet boyfriend; I get to sleep in until whenever o'clock; I get to gad about the country with an expense account that _you_ fund; everybody calls me the hero of the Eternal Winter; everybody except a few hoity-toity people are always delighted to see me. What did you get? You get to go back to working fifty hours a week, and living in about four rooms, and to be treated like a ... like a cross between a tourist attraction and a scientific oddity who also happens to give good advice on business, engineering, and law-making!"

"I get to be who I am without hurting anybody -or being hurt by anybody- and not have to live in isolation," Elsa corrected.

"That's not a happy ending!" Anna objected.

"Yes, it is," Elsa calmly persevered. "It's the most powerful kind of happy ending. Everything else is just ornamental. I could have everything that you have and more, but I would still be miserable if I had to conceal my magic."

"You're setting the bar a little low, sis," Anna persisted. "You deserve to have more than the bare minimum of happiness."

"Wait. Slow down," Elsa commanded, and then flinched as a vision of a young girl leaping off of a tall pile of snow flashed through her mind and her own voice telling Anna that she couldn't marry a man she just met echoed in her head. A sense of foreboding rattled her core, and her magic reacted by pulsing against the various barriers she had developed over the years. She took a deep breath and soothed the inner storm and composed her thoughts before continuing.

"Anna, I think your true discontent _is_ not having a 'real' job. You probably worry that you aren't making enough of a contribution to society, but rather than dealing with it in the normal fashion, you're compensating for it by inventing a problem with me. Please take some time to really think this through and be honest with yourself before you do anything to 'help' me."

"But you've been so busy lately with the university and the health care service. And working on getting our constitution drafted. And the construction projects. And the mediations. And meeting with all these dignitaries and scientists. And the tourists," Anna uttered forlornly and sat back down on the bed.

Elsa sighed. " 'Busy' does not mean 'unhappy.' Far from it. Different people have different concepts of what makes for a happy ending. We are very different people, Anna, in major ways and in minor ways. We always have been, and we're always going to be. But I can see that I've been neglecting you. Again. I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

"You haven't been neglecting me! If anything, I'm the one who's neglecting you," Anna countered. "You would eat every lunch and dinner with me and spend every evening and most of every weekend with me if I weren't out running around so much. I spend so much time with Kristoff. I'm always visiting with the townsfolk or exploring the countryside. I-"

"You're _supposed_ to spend time with Kristoff," Elsa cut in, and settled next to Anna on the bed. "You two are figuring out if you want to spend the rest of your lives together. That's a little difficult to do if you don't interact with each other. It's also a little difficult to do if your older sister is always tagging along. And you enjoy visiting with the townsfolk and exploring the countryside."

"Yeah, but ..." Anna said weakly.

"There's no need to feel guilty about it, kiddo. I like to consider myself a guilt expert, so take my word for it," Elsa laughed. "It's not as though I'm surprised that you're a social butterfly. You've wanted to be around other people since literally the day you were born; you always wanted to play or be entertained; you always loved going into town or to the royal lodge with mother and father. You couldn't wait to get out of the castle, remember?"

"Yeah, but I want to do stuff with you, too," Anna said softly.

"It's just a matter of making a few compromises on both our parts. Once the storm season starts, the tourists, ambassadors, and researchers will taper off, and I'll have more time," Elsa heartened. "And fortunately, the university and health care system won't require as much of my time now that they're up and running. But I hope you understand why I have to keep Arendelle modernized. Our citizens deserve a chance for a happy ending, too, but they won't get one if I don't manage the country properly. I love you, and I want to spend time with you, but I also need to do my job."

"Yeah, I know," Anna said somewhat glumly.

"Just because Your Highness allegedly doesn't want or need to continue your formal education, it doesn't mean that nobody else does, either," Elsa said with restrained censure. "Do you really think the people would be delighted to see you if they weren't earning enough to make ends meet? If their children were dying like flies? If ' _A shack in the forest, a_ _beggar's stave. / A life of poverty and a cross_ _on the grave,_ ' applied to Arendelle like it does to so many of our neighbors?"

Anna sighed. "No, of course not."

"A real-life happy ending is a continuous process that must be shared with a lot of other people and requires the efforts of a lot of people, including yourself. That's just the way it goes. It's not a bad thing. It's the foundation of civilization," Elsa lectured.

"I suppose," Anna allowed, somewhat deflated. "I just wish that everybody could have more time to have fun."

"Life's necessities aren't just going to magically appear - unless they can be made out of snow or ice," Elsa quipped.

"Can't you make snowmen who love to work so that humans don't have to?" Anna suddenly asked in complete earnestness.

It was not a question Elsa had been expecting. "Anna, please stop to think that through!"

"Okay, that was a pretty bad suggestion," Anna said after a few moments of reflection.

"So why did you blurt that out?"

"Because it was the easiest solution that I could think of quickly," Anna admitted sheepishly.

"I'm sure father taught you that the solutions that initially seem the easiest or the ones that you come up with quickly often make the problem worse," Elsa commented. "You have usually overlooked something important."

"Yeah, but thinking about unpleasant stuff is no fun. And a lot of times, there isn't a good solution, no matter how much you think about it," Anna said disconsolately.

 _"I'm sorry I'm so much trouble, papa," Elsa said disconsolately._

 _Agnarr sighed heavily. "You're not trouble, Elsa. I know having these powers is very hard on you. I wish there was a solution better than keeping you isolated so much. But sometimes ... sometimes there aren't any good solutions to a problem. Understanding that is part of being a ruler. And I think you already do understand it, because you've always been a good girl about this. About staying away from Anna and keeping your magic hidden. You've had to be a good girl, and you are. You're doing fine."_

Elsa closed her eyes as another fragment from an old conversation crept unbidden into her recall, and she shook her head slightly to clear her mind. "Working isn't necessarily no fun, you know," Elsa noted, yanking her thoughts back to the present. "I actually _enjoy_ most parts of my job. I like problem solving, strategizing, logistics; I like making decisions; I like making my imagination become reality, even without using my magic. Kristoff likes a lot of things about harvesting ice. Working can be very fun and fulfilling. And I think you already do understand that, because otherwise you wouldn't be so upset about not having a real job."

"I am not upset about not having a real job!" Anna disputed. "I _am_ upset that you still spend so much time cooped up alone in a room!"

"Well, then come help me out so I can finish up earlier and have more time to peregrinate," Elsa came back. Anna looked less than thrilled. "One day a week, just to get started. Don't make me order you."

"You just ordered me not to make you order me," Anna gleefully retorted.

"Consider it an order, Princess," Elsa growled good-humoredly.

"Drat!" groused Anna, and melodramatically sprawled on the bed and buried her head under a pillow.

Elsa rolled her eyes and moved the pillow off to the side. "C'mon, Anna, you need to start learning how to mind the country, because I need to travel to Thelir some time early next year. No, we both can't leave Arendelle at the same time. No, I can't just send Minister Rogalund and Minister Haugen to handle this. No, I don't want to leave Admiral Sverdrup in charge. No 'buts.' "

"But-" Anna began to whine.

"Just for that, consider it an order to take and pass a basic first aid class. Keep it up and I will find something for you to do every day of the week," Elsa threatened with a wily grin.

"Mean! Mean Queen!" Anna laughingly accused.

"I'm wicked, through and through," Elsa gloated drolly. "I can keep you so busy that you won't have the chance to worry about make-believe problems. And maybe I should."

Anna covered her head with the pillow again; Elsa took it off again.

"Honestly, Elsa, do you _have to_ go?" Anna asked with a touch of apprehension.

Something twisted in Elsa's heart, and the memory of the self-doubts and fears -and that was when she thought she was being left in charge of the kingdom for a mere two weeks- surged over her. She tried to fight back the upwelling of her magic, but Anna still shivered.

"Sorry," Elsa said and reined the cold back in, nearly as a reflex. "And sorry, yes, I have to go. Believe me, I understand how you feel. But this is about much more than wanting to bring in a few tourists to look at their mountains and waterfalls. And even then, if left to his own devices, Minister Haugen would probably pick a very scenic but dangerous trail that would kill thirty percent of all the hikers who tried it. He is brilliant in some things, but positively clueless in others."

"Hey, that sounds like someone else I know..." Anna said sardonically. Elsa was either positively clueless that Frode Haugen was blatantly fascinated with her, or she did a marvelous job of ignoring it.

"Yeah, now that you mention it, he is a lot like you," Elsa registered. "You're both really bright, really social, and care about others, but sometimes neither one of you stop to think everyth-"

With one fluid motion, Anna grabbed the pillow, swung it, and scored a direct hit on Elsa's head. Her cackle of triumph was immediately muffled as she was beset from all sides by self-propelled bags made of ice-fabric stuffed with Elsa's distinctive snowball-fight substance.

"No fair! No fair!" Anna shrieked amidst the barrage.

"You're the one who failed to secure an arms limitation treaty and launched a surprise attack," Elsa said casually, and inspected her nails while her sister was gently but comprehensively pummeled.

"Stop! Sorry! I yield!" The bags winked out of existence, and Anna paused to catch her breath.

"You are just filled with bad ideas today," Elsa wisecracked. "I have a feeling it's going to take a lot of lessons to get you up to speed on governing a kingdom, even if it is for less than two weeks during slow season."

"Yeah, I have the same feeling. Are you _sure_ you have to go?" Anna asked plaintively. "Because I would really love not to fall on my face and somehow wreck all your hard work if I don't have to."

"I need to see what Thelir has to offer and what the infrastructure there is like. They're not as wealthy or developed as we are, so I need to judge if investing in them will make enough of a return for Arendelle. There's no reason to extend our railroad into their country unless it will proportionally boost our economy," Elsa disclosed.

"We don't have a railroad," Anna pointed out.

"It's something I'm working on. It's a state secret right now."

"Wow! A railroad!" Anna said excitedly.

"You acted that enthusiastic when I first told you about the university, too," Elsa deadpanned. "It's still in the contemplation stage. You know: Think it through."

Anna completely missed the jibes. "This will be amazing! Will I get to help you?"

"You sounded that eager when you first asked if you could go to the university, too," Elsa observed dryly.

"That was back when you didn't ... back before you opened the gates," Anna euphemized.

"Fair point," Elsa sighed.

"So can I help with the railroad?"

"Maybe. It depends on how well you can adapt to 'structure.' I don't think you're going to like a lot of the analysis and planning and trouble shooting."

"Oh, how could this not be fun?" Anna challenged.

"Because you can't just say, 'I'll put a stop here and here, and lay some track through there.' This will disrupt nature and people's lives," Elsa said matter-of-factly. "And I still don't know whether the disruption would be a good thing in the long run, or even if _not_ putting one in or waiting until later to put one in would be more disruptive in the long run."

"Has anybody ever told you that you think too much?"

"This is serious, Anna. In order for a passenger line not to be a waste of resources, I have to estimate just how many tourists and locals would use it - and if having a railroad would draw in even more tourists. We must consider how it would impact the inland communities. And how best to make it work for our future needs, because we do have problems on the horizon."

"Has anybody ever told you that you worry too much?" Anna teased. "We're doing great; you're doing great."

"Doing great is just like a happy ending: You have to keep working at it. You don't get to say, 'Well, I did great for a little bit, and now I can just rest on my laurels and everything will continue to go great forever,' " Elsa chided gently.

"Yeah, but you act like you have to put out a fire before the fire is even on fire," Anna admonished.

Elsa stood back up and faced Anna with arms akimbo. "Have you ever heard the saying that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure? I don't want Arendelle to need to rely on too many foreigners to do necessary jobs here because our own citizens aren't up to modern standards. And I really, really don't want our ice harvesters and sailors and shipwrights to have to scramble to find new lines of work and not have the skills to do anything else."

"The world will always need ships and sailors," Anna said with a bemused shake of her head.

"But what kind? This is also currently a state secret, so please keep it to yourself for now. There is a ship that will revolutionize sea travel being built in Myrcia right now. It will be powered by a steam engine and propeller, and it has a steel hull," Elsa informed her.

"A steel hull? That boat will sink right away, just like the Swedish one you told us about at dinner," Anna said dismissively.

"No, it won't, provided they design it right - and there is an extremely clever man on the engineering team. If the ship is less dense than seawater, it will float. Of course, they have to keep it balanced properly, but that can be readily done since steel's strength-to-weight ratio is much better than wood's. Myrcia has already produced some steel-hulled ships, and if they perfect this combination of hull and propulsion system, the days of large wooden sailing ships will be over," Elsa predicted.

Anna took several moments to ponder the implications, and felt sick to her stomach. "A lot of Arendellians work as sailors or at the shipyard in Grømstad. And we sell some of our timber to other countries for ship building."

"Yes. Granted, it might take a few decades before it really hits us, but if I can take the right action _now_ , it won't ever be a problem. Our people will have the expertise and Arendelle will have products that will be in demand."

"The steel you've been testing isn't just for our new seawalls..." Anna realized.

"Yes, I have multiple motives for our steel projects. We have ore deposits. I'm also going to try to get the King of Thelir to allow us do some prospecting in his country and lease some mines to us. Our biggest problem is that we don't have coal, and neither do many other places on the Scandinavian peninsula."

"I have a headache," Anna groaned.

"Do you still think you have what it takes to work on the railroad all the live-long day, Princess?" Elsa razzed. "You gotta practice for this kind of heavy lifting."

"Yeesh, believe me, I can see that now. You know, mother and father always told me funny or comforting bedtime stories, not harrowing tales of economic doom," Anna said sarcastically.

"That's another one of the perks of being the spare," Elsa shot back.

"Now I really don't know how you put up with it, and I'm convinced that you really need more playtime. Being a ruler sounds like more trouble than it's worth," Anna said with more than a hint of frustration.

"Well, you could probably say that about any job, at least some of the time. But we do have it pretty cushy, you know," Elsa remarked archly, and began to pace the length of the room. "Do you think we'd have flush toilets, and cooks and maids, and the spare time to gad about the country if I were a seamstress or a laundress?" Anna was silent for longer than Elsa expected; the Queen started to pace more quickly and in a tighter circuit, like an agitated animal confined in a small cage. "Yeah, that's right: If I had a normal job, I still wouldn't be able to play with you whenever you wanted. I'd have even less free time, because I wouldn't be able to afford to pay other people to do my household chores. I'd go to work, and then I'd come home and work some more. Cooking, cleaning, mending. That's how ordinary people live. So I don't think we have grounds to complain too much, Your Highness. Especially given the whole Eternal Winter incident. The people would have been within their rights to turn me out. And then you would have been the ruler, and-"

Anna rose from the bed and blocked her sister's path. "Whoa, Elsa! Stop thinking before you get carried away!" Anna ordered and gave Elsa's upper arms, which were already unpleasantly cold, a gentle squeeze. The Snow Queen's panic attacks were definitely an example of an ounce of prevention being worth a pound of cure.

"Sorry," Elsa said bashfully.

Anna lead her to the bed and nudged her to sit down. Elsa complied, and took a few deep breaths. Anna sat down next to her, and put an arm around Elsa's shoulders, using her sister's body temperature to gauge the Queen's inner battle against her sometimes treacherously analytical mind. A few moments passed in silence, each of them taking solace in the other's presence. For all the times that they baffled and irritated each other, there were just as many instances when they were the only ones who truly understood each other.

"Do you see why I can't always take a break every time you want to play?" Elsa finally asked. "Do you see why you need to start learning the tools of the trade? Not to add gloom to your doom, mind you, but if anything happens to me, you're in charge of Arendelle, and as we saw during the Eternal Winter, you can't always trust your advisers and guardians. Even during tranquil times, the burden is on you to actively acquire and evaluate all the information you need; you _cannot_ rely on assistants to think for you."

"Believe me, I really learned that one today with the cake," Anna said self-deprecatingly.

"Good. It wasn't a total waste, then. So, are you going to name the conspirators or make me give everyone the third degree?" Elsa angled.

"Please, _please_ don't fire anyone!" Anna begged. "It was all my idea. They were just ... playing along with me."

Elsa looked around the room she used to sleep in and thought of the night when her relentlessly high-spirited little sister persuaded her to "play along" even though she knew better. "It all depends on their reasons for 'playing along.' I promise to keep the carnage to a minimum. I'll probably just reassign the serving maid to another department, but I won't guarantee that nobody gets fired. Names?"

Anna stared at the floor.

"To protect the innocents from the unnecessary ordeal of being cross-examined by the Queen," Elsa coaxed.

Anna sighed. "Antonia, Fredrik, Beate, Ulrikke, Valdemar, and Balász."

"Not Balász!" Elsa gasped in consternation. "He _made_ the cakes! Well, I certainly can't fire or transfer _him_."

"Gee, who knew dessert chefs get diplomatic immunity, too?" Anna ribbed.

"Balász' handiwork is essential for the maintenance of cordial international relations," Elsa testified. "His chocolate roulade has smoothed over so many differences of opinion."

"And here I thought you were the mastermind behind global peace," Anna bantered.

"Oh, I am. But it's all about mobilizing your forces properly and judiciously using your secret weapons," Elsa said with a smirk. "Are you sure you've given me _all_ the names?"

"Yes," Anna said with slight exasperation.

"I find it hard to believe that you pulled the caper off without Kai's help."

Anna squirmed. "I didn't exactly tell him about it or ask him to help ..."

"... But he didn't exactly do anything to stop you or the others, or alert me about your little plan," Elsa supplied. Anna nodded. Elsa sighed. "Well, when father reduced the staff, he didn't exactly keep a lot of people who were shrewd and perceptive and showed much initiative. In fact, most of the people he hired after I was born were chosen because they did only what they were told, and didn't wonder too much why there was snow, ice, and wind inside the castle sometimes."

"I must've inherited my short-sightedness from papa," Anna said somewhat tartly.

Elsa wearily rubbed her eyes. "Anna, we've been through this before. Our parents did the best they could with the constraints, responsibilities, and information they had at the time. And you have yet to tell me what you would have _realistically_ done oh-so-differently if you were in the same position."

"I think I would have been better at making you feel less guilty and scared," Anna contended.

" _How?_ Why do you think that? As if _you_ have never, ever said the wrong thing or misjudged a situation! C'mon, Anna! Don't you think they tried? Just saying 'Don't feel guilty' or 'Don't feel scared' to me would be about as effective as saying 'Don't be clumsy' or 'Don't be impulsive' to you," Elsa insisted. "It's hard to fight against your own nature or completely natural reactions to your circumstances."

Anna sighed. They could rarely discuss their parents' decisions without getting into an argument. And usually she didn't have anything clear-headed to say in opposition to Elsa's points.

"I guess ... I guess there's really no one to blame. Except maybe Grand Pabbie," Anna grumbled. "He's kind of a bumbler when it comes to giving recommendations about your magic."

"For all anybody knows, isolating me because of Grand Pabbie's warning really did save me from being attacked by an angry mob when I was younger. If I had been trying to learn how to control my magic out in the open, there's no telling what could have happened."

Anna sighed again. "Maybe," she grudgingly allowed. "But he _does_ have a problem with ambiguous statements and not speaking up when someone misinterprets them. We were so close to a horrible ending because he said 'Only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart,' instead of 'You must perform an act of true love to thaw your heart.' "

Elsa suddenly pulled Anna into a fierce hug, and Anna grunted in surprise. "Oh, Anna, being ambiguous was the only thing that _saved_ us from a horrible ending! If Grand Pabbie had explicitly told you that you were the one who needed to perform an act of true love to save yourself, it would have made it nearly impossible to do. You would have never been able to put someone else's needs before yours if you knew that _you needed_ to put someone else's needs before yours."

Anna wriggled free of her sister's embrace and narrowed her eyes. "Wait, what?"

"The motivation for the act would always be in doubt. If the act was done to save your own life, it would be rendered no longer an act of true love. Self-interest would always corrupt the act and prevent you from doing the very thing that you need to do to save yourself," Elsa clarified. "So not knowing what _you needed_ to do was your only hope of putting your needs aside and doing something out of pure, true love."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Run that by me again!" Anna exclaimed.

Elsa smiled patiently. "Okay. First off, the act of true love had to be performed by you. Otherwise, Kristoff being willing to bring you back to Hans and leave you forever would have worked. Olaf being willing to melt to start the fire in order to keep you warm would have done the trick. Kristoff and Sven charging across the fjord, risking death the whole way, with ships capsizing almost on top of them and the sea ice breaking up around them and the temperature plummeting, is _much_ more of an act of true love than a silly kiss, but that didn't work, either. So _you_ were the one who needed to perform the act."

"Yeah, I figured that part out on my own afterward. That's why I'm a little bit ... miffed, let's just say, that Grand Pabbie didn't give me as much information as he could or should have," Anna said. "Sometimes, it's hard enough for me to make good decisions without people giving me garbled instructions."

"He phrased it the only way that would give you a fighting chance. So the next time you see him, you should thank him. Profusely and sincerely," Elsa urged. "He was deliberately vague in order to save your life."

"I still don't think I understand what you're talking about."

"Even if the emotion you felt for Kristoff at the time really was true love, if you had kissed him because you knew that _you needed_ to perform an act of true love to save yourself, the kiss wouldn't have worked. It wouldn't have been an act of true love, with nothing riding on it for you. It would have been an act of self-preservation."

"Wh-wh-wh..." Anna stammered.

"If you had seen Hans about to kill me and thought, 'Aha! I'll just sacrifice myself for Elsa, and that will be my act of true love to thaw my heart,' it would have no longer been an act of true love. It would have been tainted by selfishness. You would have been doing it out of your own need."

"Oh..." Anna faltered.

"Instead of giving up what you believed was your chance to save yourself in order to save me, you would have blocked the sword from hitting me, but the deed wouldn't have thawed you, because it was done thinking that it would save your own life. You would still be an ice statue, and I do not want to think about how the rest of us would have turned out," Elsa said pensively.

Anna's jaw went slack.

" _Maybe_ Kristoff coming back for you would have been touching enough to make you _totally_ forget what was at stake for you, or _maybe_ seeing Hans posed to strike me dead would have been shocking and dire enough to make you _totally_ forget that your life was on the line, but ... but from what you've said about ... the experience ..." Elsa struggled to find a delicate way to remind Anna how terrible the transmutation had felt. She clamped down tight on her magic. "I know you don't like to talk about it ... but I gathered that the ... transformation process ... wasn't something you could ... disregard."

Anna hung her head.

"If you know that you're the one who must save yourself through your own act of love, _nothing_ you try will work - unless you have the emotional and mental discipline to keep your needs and your desperation completely out of your mind and focus solely on doing something for love. I also like to consider myself an emotional and mental discipline expert, so take it from me that it's arbitrarily close to impossible for you -or anyone else- to do that," Elsa appraised.

"You mean ... if someone else ever gets struck in the heart by your magic..." Anna stumbled.

"All hope is lost for him or her. Unless he or she doesn't already know the remedy, or possesses an almost inhuman amount of self-control," Elsa said solemnly. "Even if he or she doesn't know what the antidote is, and we try the same ploy, finding or creating the right conditions to reverse the freeze would be incredibly difficult. So whenever I say it's dangerous and give the order to either run away or let me go, or if there's a threat and I say to get out of my way, I am _deadly_ serious, Anna. _Do not_ think that it's safe for anyone -especially you- to be struck by my magic because you know how to undo it. Knowing how to undo it only makes salvation all but unattainable."

Anna looked stunned.

"So, what do you think of Grand Pabbie's cryptic advice now?" Elsa prodded.

Anna's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes were wide. "I didn't ... I never ... But if ... You mean ... So he really did ..."

"I know it's complex, but that's the way magic is. He really was trying to save you. Even though it seemed like he misdirected you. Even though it would make him look like a bumbler to you. So if you were going to flout whatever it was he said that 'pertains to you,' because you think he's inept when it comes to my magic, please, _please_ think again," Elsa exhorted.

"He told me not to push you too much, even if I meant well. He told me to let you take things at your own pace, more for my sake than yours," Anna spouted.

"I'd say that is something that pertains to you _and_ me, not just you," Elsa reproached. "I'd also say it is an excellent and lucid piece of advice even if everything else he ever said really was a blunder. You were genuinely going to disobey it?"

"Well... I mean, not 'disobey' so much as ... I don't know the right term. Selectively ignore it," Anna beat around the bush.

"Has your opinion of Grand Pabbie's competence changed at all now?" Elsa asked dryly.

"Oh, yeah!" said Anna, still looking dazed. "In fact, I'd like to learn how to say 'Thank you very much for saving my life' in Trollish."

"That can be arranged," Elsa said with a slight smile. "Did he say anything else last night that pertains to more than just you?"

"Uh, let me think. He said you were the most powerful magical human he knows of, as powerful as the strongest naturally magical beings," Anna acknowledged. "And that you grew up too soon, but that you never surrendered, and that there's hope for the future."

"And you didn't want me to know this because...?"

"Mainly because of the 'do not push' direction. But he also made you sound like ... like you're kind of eerie and messed up."

"Sunflower, I _am_ kind of eerie and messed up," Elsa declared with a smile. "I just gotta embrace it."

"You _are not_ eerie and messed up! You just had ... an unusual childhood, and you can overcome it. You _are_ overcoming it. We can fix it," Anna averred.

"I would have had an unusual childhood no matter what. And Grand Pabbie said 'embrace' not 'fix,' " Elsa emphasized. "And no, this isn't a case where telling me what I need to do would prevent me from doing it."

"But I don't think he meant that you have to be a certain way if you're really _not_ or don't want to be a certain way," Anna advocated.

"True, but he did say to embrace my negative emotions, too. And negative emotions are perfectly natural for normal people."

"Yeah, but-" Anna began.

"Don't push!" Elsa interjected. "I recognize that you still have some qualms about heeding Grand Pabbie's instructions. You had an unusual childhood, too, and you didn't even have the modest consolation of knowing _why_. You were the one who was affected the worst by his suggestions and having your memories altered, and it's obvious that he didn't and still doesn't entirely understand my magic. But he hasn't been _wrong_ per se. My intuition also tells me that I need to learn how to feel more and keep control; for some reason, my emotions and my magic do not have a stress reaction to this concept. So I trust him on this one."

"Okay," Anna said with resignation. "It seems like you're doing fine however you're doing it now."

"Anna, keeping control is also a continuous process. I don't want to scare you-"

"Oh, that is the most hilarious thing you've said all evening!" Anna broke in. "Not that that's saying much..."

Elsa conjured and tossed a few snowflakes at her and resumed: "But my powers will continue to grow, and my control must keep up with them. Grand Pabbie is right that suppressing my emotions in order to maintain control is yet another bad habit, and that as dangerous as experimenting with my magic is now, it's nothing compared to what will happen in the future if I don't learn how to keep control the right way."

"Well, you did great tonight," Anna commended.

"Almost," Elsa said, thinking of the unfortunate side table.

"You did great," Anna repeated steadfastly and smiled at her sister's shy -and somewhat sleepy- appreciation of the compliment. "With everything ... except maybe the math joke. I know I tease you about thinking too much, and I _know_ you work way too much, but you are the best. I may be the hero of the Eternal Winter, but you're the hero of the Happy Ending."

"Happy endings don't have heroes, because there's no conflict. Happy endings have architects or engineers," Elsa deflected.

"Whatever," Anna said with a roll of her eyes. "Although 'Architect of Our Happy Ending' does have a nice ring to it."

"Remember what I said about happy endings requiring a group effort. There are lots of people working to make it happen."

"There's no way anyone else could do what you do to make it happen."

"I guess that's why they pay me the big money," Elsa said self-effacingly and stifled a yawn.

"It certainly isn't for your comedic talents," Anna joshed.

"People laugh at the skits in the magic show," Elsa said mock defensively.

"That's because Olaf and Sven are performing them. It's the delivery, not the content," Anna said smugly. "They're a walking, talking snowman and a reindeer who performs pantomime with Kristoff doing his voiceover; people would laugh at anything they do."

"Well, at least I know how to surround myself with the right people, then." She gave Anna a firm hug. "Listen, I love you no matter what, and I am proud of you. I might hassle you about your judgment, but there was one important day when you chose wisely, even when you didn't have enough information. And there was another day when you acted quickly and correctly despite my assurances that everything was fine. So remember that if you're scared that you'll fail at school or running Arendelle. And don't worry if you don't yet know what to do with all that feeling you have in your heart. You _will_ find your calling, I'm sure of it." Elsa smiled affectionately, but this time could not hold back a yawn.

"And you didn't even participate in the snowball fight," Anna teased.

"As though participating in a snowball fight would make me tired," Elsa scoffed. "You're the big baby who took a nap afterward."

"Hey, I was just thinking ahead. It was the best idea I had all day, even though it ended with ice in my ear, which I'm certain _you_ deny knowing _anything_ about. Plus, I went to bed later than you did," Anna reminded.

"You also woke up later than I did," Elsa countered.

"Well, _I_ helped Stefanie shop for a dress!" Anna said with faux self-importance.

"And plotted a seditious act against the Queen your sister," Elsa needled good-naturedly. "Meanwhile, _I_ issued a royal decree to put an end to _pluralis maiestatis._ "

"You can't just eradicate diseases by issuing a royal decree, you goofball!" Anna rebuked.

Elsa giggled. "Anna, _pluralis maiestatis_ isn't a disease; it's the Royal _We_. Didn't you have any Latin lessons?"

Anna cringed at her mistake. "I had a few, but they weren't exactly my favorite. Too many declensions to keep track of," she said with a shudder.

"You are not going to like Trollish, then," Elsa told her.

"Sure I will. It's a living language, not something that's only useful for reading boring stuff in musty books. I can use it to talk with Kristoff's family."

"You will have to apply yourself, though," Elsa cautioned. "But I suspect learning it from Kristoff and the trolls themselves will be easier than the route I had to take. Plus, I think the trolls will make it fun for you." She stifled another yawn.

"Elsa," Anna began haltingly, "what did Grand Pabbie erase from my memories of you playing the piano?"

"It was something my magic did automatically; I never directed it. It made shapes ... well, 'shapes' obviously isn't the most helpful term, and they weren't something easy to draw," Elsa explained awkwardly. "Most of the time they were self-similar and moved along with the music. I can't properly describe it, and I didn't often look at it anyway, because I was paying attention to the keyboard. But you and mother and even father loved watching it. Grand Pabbie must have made my playing seem superb to make up for taking out the part that you really enjoyed."

"Oh. If you're ever in the mood to play again, I'd love to see it," Anna said, taking care to keep her tone neutral.

"I don't even know if my magic would still do that." Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy.

"Even if it doesn't, I'd love to hear you play again," Anna encouraged.

"Someday. I promise. But I have to be prepared." Elsa unleashed a not inconsiderable yawn. "Sorry."

"Okay, to bed with you," Anna said with a chuckle.

"Whoa, you _are_ capable of sensible suggestions! Don't forget what I said about working with me one day a week and taking -and _passing_ \- a first aid course. Your Highness can still have this week to play, but after the Harvest Festival, it's time to get cracking, at least a little bit," Elsa charged.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Anna said humbly. They hugged one more time, and Elsa tousled her sister's loose hair. Anna walked her to the door, and smiled as the Snow Queen yawned once more. "See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Anna," Elsa said, and squeezed her sister's hand as she went through the doorway.

Once the door shut behind her, Elsa heaved a sigh as she rounded the corner. She paused at the head of the hall to her suite, and listened intently, positive that she could hear a cricket chirping somewhere down below, and positive that the noise was coming from _inside_. There was undoubtedly a hole in an exterior wall or a gap in a window frame or doorway, and finding it in a place as big as the castle could take weeks, which in turn meant weeks' worth of creatures, some much more destructive than crickets, gaining entry.

Elsa put that on her mental to-do list, and mulled over the dialogue with her sister. She felt like she hadn't handled it very well, that maybe there was some truth to the indictment that she couldn't hold a real conversation as a human being if her life depended on it. She wanted Anna's happy ending to be perfect, and here she was ordering her little sister to get to work, yelling at her for not continuing her education, frightening her about what the future could hold for Arendelle, and probably giving her nightmares about being turned to ice again.

She entered her own dark bedroom, and exhaled in relief. She could finally relax some of the restraints on her magic. The temperature of the room dropped, and while it was refreshing for her, she knew that anyone else would be shaking. Spirals of frost coated the window panes as if to block out the world beyond the four walls.

Elsa plunked down on her bed and spread out, still feeling worried that she had been too heavy-handed with Anna, especially with explaining how being struck in the heart by her magic was more dangerous than before. But if Anna had felt justified in ignoring Grand Pabbie's warning about pushing because she thought the old troll was a bungler when it came to giving advice and/or was confident that another shot to the heart wouldn't be a problem, she needed to be swiftly and soundly disabused of those notions. She didn't want Anna to be afraid of her, but in the final analysis, that was far preferable to Anna being foolhardy ... and a permanent ice statue.

Elsa sighed again. There had been so many mistakes and oversights in Anna's upbringing, from her own limited involvement as a big sister and then as a guardian, to her parents' simultaneous policies of over-accommodating Anna's need for fun, over-protecting her from many of the harsher realities of life, and under-stimulating her intellect. She didn't want to make the same errors as her parents, but it was so easy to do in her endeavor to make up for ruining Anna's childhood. She had to force herself to remember that Anna was no longer a child, and that treating her like one, or -even worse- wanting her to remain one was unnatural. As was excessively fretting about it. She really did trust Anna to find her calling; and she really didn't want to interfere too much in Anna's process of self-discovery, otherwise it would cease to be self-discovery.

She yawned again, and slipped under the covers, out of respect for tradition and the skills of local artisans. The Snow Queen wiggled her toes and a pile of soft, cold, unmeltable snow materialized between the sheets to cushion and pamper her feet. She moaned in contentment, and quickly slipped into a deep slumber to recharge herself for Tuesday.

 **Author's Notes - My main curveball in this chapter is the fine and very important detail about the act of true love to undo Elsa's magic. I apologize if I belabored that too much for some of you, but since I have not seen anyone else discuss this or use it as a plot point, I want and need to be absolutely clear that Elsa is more dangerous than ever - and Elsa knows it. If anyone doesn't quite get it, there will be more discussion of it in later chapters. My authorial intuition tells me that** ** _Frozen's_** **writers understood this perfectly well and that's why they had Grand Pabbie be so vague. So, kudos for Jennifer Lee, Chris Buck, and Shane Morris for being subtle! And some kudos for Grand Pabbie for being more than a seemingly less-than-helpful oracle! (And this should make you wonder if his visual aid for "Fear will be your enemy" and silence when Agnarr outlines his plan to isolate Elsa** ** _might_** **also be for a "good" reason - hmmm, hmmm.) And some kudos** **for Running Red Husky for seeing it!**

 **As to Elsa and Anna, I wanted this chapter to run the emotional gamut of their relationship. I especially wanted to show how Anna helps with Elsa's "can't stop thinking" and Elsa helps with Anna's "doesn't stop to think" - and how they fight and get on each other's nerves and misunderstand each other.**

 **The "A shack in the forest" rhyme is by a Finnish poet whose name I cannot track down; it was probably written a few decades after** ** _Frozen's_** **time frame but was still very applicable to what real life was like then. Fortunately for Arendelle, it had more going for it than most Scandinavianish countries did. Scandinavia's real-life scarcity of coal, along with the climate and lack of fertile soils really did cause grim living conditions for a lot of people there during the Industrial Revolution. Let's just say that Elsa's ability to create ice combined with an engine that can be powered by ice (the Stirling engine) will make her very interesting to a lot of other people.**

 **The ship Elsa talked about is based on the** ** _SS Great Britain_** **, and the extremely clever man on the engineering team is Isambard Kingdom Brunel. It isn't too anachronistic that Elsa would say it will have a screw propeller, since Brunel was trying to get the Great Western Steamship Company to agree to change the design from paddle wheels to propeller in 1840. I figure that Elsa has a lovely "social network" that shares all the best information with her. Grømstad is Grimstad, because the town acquired the name Grimstad via a clerical error that wouldn't have happened because Arendelle isn't a part of Norway. Showing my work, teacher!**

 **Shout-outs to** ** _Wicked,_** **earlier drafts of** ** _Frozen,_** **and "More Than Just A Spare."**

 **The shapes when Elsa plays the piano will be fractals and a tribute to a segment of "Fantasia."**


	31. Chapter 31

31\. Nightcap, Volume 1

After leaving the ball room, the reception's guests were subtly herded towards the castle's main entrance by a team of guards, who made sure there was no chance for a wrong turn or a surreptitious peek into other rooms. Adam and Beatrice, attended by Olaf, were waiting by the tall doors for their parents. The children looked at ease and, to Irene's delight, somewhat worn out.

"Did you enjoy yourselves?" John asked as the family reunited with a sequence of hugs that included the little snowman for good measure. The rest of the research group, along with Nilsson and the Sverdrups, smiled and lingered to hear the children's review of their evening.

"Oh, papa, it was the best-" Adam praised.

"We had so much fun-" Beatrice told them earnestly.

"We knew some of the other children from the snowball fight, and everyone is so friendly-" Adam reported excitedly.

"When will we get to come back again?" Beatrice wanted to know.

"To be honest, I don't know how often we'll be invited to dinner at the castle," John said simply, much to the dismay of his son and daughter.

"The castle isn't the only place to meet with friends," Olaf pointed out. "You'll see them at school. And I visit town almost every day." This buoyed the children's spirits.

"Did they behave themselves tonight, Olaf?" Irene questioned.

"Of course!" Olaf replied heartily. "We only had one little mishap, but that was my fault. I was the one who let out the crickets and the lizard that Halvard brought for show-and-tell."

The adults shared looks of amused comprehension. "Crickets, eh?" Homberg said.

"Yeah. Everybody helped to round them up, and I'm pretty sure we got them all back. But we never did find the lizard," Olaf revealed.

Beatrice giggled. "It sure did run fast!"

The adults shared looks of amused disbelief. "Oh, dear," John chuckled.

"Do you know what sort of lizard it is?" Homberg asked with interest.

"Halvard called it a _nordfirfisle_ ," Adam answered. "He said he came across it in a woodpile, and it didn't move that quickly then."

"Sounds like _Lacerta_ _vivipara_ , the viviparous or common lizard. It was probably getting ready to hibernate for the winter," Homberg informed them. "The ones that live in the southern part of the species' range stay active all year, so I'm not sure if it would still hibernate if it's inside the castle, where it's warmer."

"I hope Queen Elsa doesn't mind an uninvited lodger," Irene said with a touch of concern.

"Don't worry. I'll catch it in no time, and take it back to its woodpile," Olaf asserted.

"If it takes a long winter's nap inside the castle, you probably won't see it again until March," Homberg warned. "And if it doesn't hibernate, it will likely seek out the warmest areas."

"No problem. I can take care of this," Olaf said blithely. "I help Anna all the time with animals that get stuck in the wrong place. Well, good night, everybody!" He waved, and they all waved back before he toddled off.

"I won't mention how often helping the Princess with animals that are stuck in the wrong place turns into chaos," Nilsson remarked drolly as they walked out into the courtyard. The Admiral and Agnete nodded knowingly.

"I can well imagine," Newark smirked. "After all of today's events, I shall never again consider Arendelle to be a dull, irrelevant speck on the map."

"Oh, it's not like this all the time, sir. We have a long, proud heritage of being dull and irrelevant," the Admiral maintained. "It keeps us out of harm's way."

They reached the courtyard's outer gates, and the sentries were once again friendly but businesslike. Irene noted that the guards scrutinized the group and once more checked off names from the guest list as they passed back out onto the causeway. Although the gates were open, apparently that didn't mean that Queen Elsa had a casual attitude about trespassing.

As they walked back towards the town, Adam glanced at the tripods that his father and most of the other adults were carrying over their shoulders. "What are those, papa?" Adam asked.

"Steady stands for telescopes," Homberg explained. "I can't wait to try out the Snow Queen's gifts. Unfortunately, the seeing isn't that good tonight. Too many clouds. But I'm sure to get an opening for something worthwhile if I'm patient."

The children momentarily forgot their fatigue. "Did you get a telescope, too, papa?" Beatrice asked, trying to peer into the box that her mother was holding.

"Yes, but both of you need to get ready for bed," John said gently. "There will be tomorrow night."

"According to the shipping reports, Wednesday should be stormy," Admiral Sverdrup cut in. "That means Tuesday evening will be completely overcast, and Thursday evening could still be cloudy as well."

"Come now, let them have a glimpse tonight!" Homberg beseeched. "It will only take a few minutes to set it up and calibrate it. The clouds are at least moving fast. We'll have a few windows of opportunity."

John sighed and consulted Irene, who grinned. "Three nights of restless impatience, including yours and mine, versus a few minutes of looking through a telescope now. And it's an educational experience: Mr. Homberg and Prof. Newark can tell us about what we're seeing."

"When you put it that way..." John conceded. The children smiled with anticipation.

Once they reached the waterfront plaza, the Sverdrups bade the rest of the group a good evening before turning for their home.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's been a pleasure. We wish you happy viewing of the night sky," the Admiral tendered.

"And I hope to see you all at the Harvest Festival. It might be a quaint celebration in a small country, but it's fun," Agnete said.

"Maybe we can get the Admiral to regale everybody with stories about the times he fought sea monsters _and_ Barbary corsairs in the same battle," Nilsson proposed.

"I have no intention of letting Arendelle's most senior military officer tipple that much anymore," Agnete declared. "It's getting harder for me to throw him over my shoulder and haul home. We'll leave the tall tales to other people." She and her husband waved farewell and walked off arm in arm.

"It's like the end of an era," Nilsson said dolefully.

"I take it the Admiral's far-fetched yarns are a highlight of your country's festivities," Duffin inferred, sidling closer to Nilsson with the intention of following after the official once she headed for home in order to ask for an interview later on.

"Yes, but an even bigger highlight is Agnete lifting him like a stevedore manhandling cargo," Nilsson professed. "You need to see it to appreciate it."

The visitors shared looks of amused astonishment before Homberg and Newark began setting up the tripods and affixing the telescopes. "Just about ready for action. I'll teach you what to do with these knobs, dials, and levers later," Homberg said as he and Newark took preliminary looks at a break in the clouds after one final tweak of the rigs.

"Ooooooooooh!" Newark and Homberg chorused.

"That good, huh?" asked Papadopoulos.

"If ... if this is what ... Her Majesty's portable version is capable of..." Homberg's words failed him. Newark was entirely speechless.

"I looked through the big one at the observatory's inauguration. No offense, Father, but it was the greatest religious experience of my life," Nilsson said quietly.

"No offense taken, madam. There's no way a sermon or a structure built by humans could compare with God's own handiwork," Papadopoulos said with sincere humility.

Homberg tore himself away from his eyepiece and gestured to the doctor, who boosted his daughter up for her first ever look through a telescope. Newark, still silent, hoisted Adam up to the ocular lens of his.

"What is that, Mr. Homberg?" Beatrice gasped.

"The planet Saturn and its famous rings," Homberg whispered in awe. "I have never before seen them so clearly."

"It's beautiful! Why does it have rings?" Beatrice wondered.

"It's still a mystery, my dear," Homberg admitted. "We don't know why, or what the rings are made of."

"Why don't you let your mother have a turn, Beatrice," John suggested after a few moments. "Besides, you're getting heavy." He grunted as he set her back down. "I don't think you weighed this much before dinner."

Newark also put Adam back on the ground. "Go pester your sister," the Myrcian said good-humoredly and motioned to John to take a turn. Adam smiled sleepily.

The doctor gave a low whistle when he saw the magnified globe. The ring stood in sharp relief around the amber orb, and the shadow cast by the encircling annulus dramatically accentuated the planet's spherical shape. The concept of other worlds and the implications were mind-boggling. If this marvelous, enormous marble was a sibling of the Earth, what kind of incredible satellites were looping around exotic suns? John stepped aside for Duffin, whose jaw dropped at the sight.

"Why is Saturn yellowish? Is that the surface of an ocean or clouds?" asked Irene, amazed by the planet and the clarity of the view of something that had to be at least tens of millions of kilometers away. It was obvious to her now why all so many people came to study Queen Elsa's magic or ask her for favors.

The midwife beckoned to Eliasz to have a look. The Pole couldn't help but do a double take, pulling away from the telescope to look at the sixth planet unaided, and then returning to viewing through the magical ice-lenses before the clouds obscured the target.

"Also a mystery," Homberg stated. "There's so much we have yet to learn about the cosmos. I have extremely high hopes now for Arendelle's observa- Wait! Is it getting hotter, or is it just me?"

"It's definitely getting warmer," confirmed Debora.

They all glanced around somewhat nervously for signs of a fire, but there were none. Just as suddenly, the crisp temperature of the autumn evening returned.

"The Snow Queen!" deduced Sinibaldo, and now they all glanced around somewhat nervously for the monarch of Arendelle, but the castle's causeway was deserted.

"So she's also the Heat Wave Queen?" asked Papadopoulos with great curiosity.

"Not really. According to previous researchers, it's much, _much_ harder for her to remove natural cold, even briefly, than it is for her to return a system to its previous temperature after using her magic. It's also more difficult for her to thaw naturally occurring ice than water that she has frozen," Eliasz elucidated. "However, if she did that from inside the castle, it would seem that particular ability is getting stronger. The last documented time that somebody asked her to try, she could barely warm up the magic lab classroom for a few seconds. Waclaw, please add that to our list of experiments."

Waclaw produced a pencil and small memorandum book from his suit's pocket and dutifully made a note of it.

"What do you suppose brought that on, then?" asked Papadopoulos.

"Just venting steam, I'd guess," Nilsson quipped. "Making ice sculptures might not have been enough of an outlet after all the problems she had tonight."

"Did a lizard get loose in your dining room, too?" Beatrice queried innocently.

"Unfortunately, no. Nothing as good as that," Nilsson said wistfully. "A lizard on the lam trumps a drunken diplomat and an errant princess."

"Princess Anna was naughty?" Beatrice concluded with far too much inquisitiveness for her parents' liking.

"She just behaved inappropriately for the occasion," Irene quibbled.

"Which is a polite way of saying she was naughty," Nilsson clarified.

"Is she in trouble? How do princesses get punished? Do they get locked in a tower?" Beatrice fretted, somewhat distressed about what would happen to the nice young lady who had shown them around Arendelle, given what usually happened to princesses in most of the stories she knew.

"Queen Elsa wouldn't lock up _anyone_ ," Nilsson said emphatically, and the other adults perceived the profound significance of the statement. "Her Majesty has a very good sense of justice, as befits a great sovereign. She usually tries to find constructive ways for wrong-doers to make amends for what they did."

"Even her own sister?" Beatrice asked.

"Even her own sister. Queen Elsa is fair to everyone," Nilsson said. "Banishing the minions while letting the ringleader go with nary a consequence wouldn't be right."

Beatrice reflected on that. "They're sure not like the princesses and magical queens in fairy tales."

"Thank goodness," Nilsson chuckled. "Well, ladies and gents, I'll leave you to your stargazing."

"Good evening, Minister Nilsson. Perhaps we'll see you at the Harvest Festival," Debora said.

"Undoubtedly, especially if you pass by the booth selling hard cider," Nilsson joshed.

"I'll be turning in as well," Duffin announced. "I need to prepare for my audience with the Queen tomorrow."

"It's time for us to head for home, too," John added.

"But papa-" Adam protested.

"No 'buts!' There _will_ be other nights, eventually," John said firmly. "Besides, you wouldn't want to be too tired to take a castle tour tomorrow morning, would you?"

"No, sir!" Adam and Beatrice said in unison.

"Oh, I forgot the tours run tomorrow!" Debora realized. "I'll probably need a few visits to take it all in."

"She'll be applying for a side job as a tour guide before you know it," Eliasz said dryly. Zlata and Waclaw laughed into their hands.

"Good night, friends," John said.

"Thank you for showing us Saturn, Mr. Homberg," Beatrice said shyly.

"Yes, thank you," Adam echoed. John patted his children's shoulders in approval, proud that he didn't have to prod them to remember their manners.

"It was my pleasure," Homberg said. "When we get better viewing conditions, we'll put these telescopes through their paces. I'll be sure to check into the university library's holdings, and see if there are any good astronomy books for you to read - and examine their celestial almanacs for upcoming conjunctions and other exciting events in the heavens."

"Thank you, Mr. Homberg. We would like that very much," Irene said with a smile.

"Should we thank Snow Queen Elsa, too?" Beatrice asked. The adults all shared thoughtful looks.

"If the microscope matches the telescope's quality -and I'm positive it does- tonight's door prizes are worth a king's ransom," Newark commented quietly.

"I need to have a talk with that girl about handing out kings' ransoms like after-dinner mints," Nilsson jested.

"A formal note of appreciation would seem to be called for," John said with a wry smile. "We'll get a card tomorrow, and either drop it off at the castle, or give it to someone to pass along. Now, off to bed."

They all waved farewell, and the Mandelbaums, Waclaw, and the Scurrs made their way to the university level of the town, where they and many other instructors from outside Arendelle had their residences, while Nilsson headed toward the houses on the flanks of the lower hills that surrounded the harbor. Duffin caught up with the Arendellian before she turned a second corner.

"Excuse me, Minister Nilsson. May I have a word with you?" the historian spoke softly.

"Certainly, ma'am," Nilsson said genially and came to a halt.

"May I interview you, whenever it's convenient?" Duffin solicited.

"Me? Whatever for?" Nilsson asked, somewhat taken aback.

"Any information about early displays of the Queen's magic would be very helpful to me," Duffin entreated. "There is nothing known about the time before the gates were shut. I assumed that was because her powers hadn't surfaced before then, but Her Majesty corrected me today. I've heard about the blizzard, ice crystals, and aurora when she was born, but so far, you're the only person I've come across who knew about the Snow Queen's powers before her coronation."

Nilsson continued walking. Duffin kept pace with her.

"Well, her parents obviously knew better than to let a young child who could create ice and snow out of thin air roam freely, so there aren't many people who _did_ know," Nilsson related. "And some of the ones who knew have passed away. Of natural causes, by the way. The physician and the midwife who attended Her Majesty's birth have been gone for a few years now."

"So the King had a policy of secrecy even before he shut the gates," Duffin mused.

"Of course. Most of the people accept her now, after she's mastered it, and after there is solid evidence that she's responsible and _good_ , that she did and still would make extreme sacrifices to keep us safe. But an unplumbed six-year-old running loose in public exploring the extent of her abilities would be another story. As would a two-year-old throwing a magical tantrum, no matter how small in scale," Nilsson posited. "And knowing what we do now about what happens if her magic strikes a heart, things could have gone wrong very quickly."

Duffin's eyes were wide. "I never thought of all the implications of having magical powers from birth. It must have been challenging to deal with her fits of temper or distress."

"I myself never witnessed one," Nilsson testified. "I have no idea what form her tantrums took or how strong her magic was, or even if one ever actually occurred, because I was never around her before she could speak coherently. Castle scuttlebutt had it that Queen Elsa was well-behaved and calm as an infant and toddler - which is as weird for this dynasty as having magical powers. However, the potential for an outburst undoubtedly would have been there, and therefore also the potential for the people to be afraid of her."

Duffin pondered that for a moment. "I suppose that would present a problem for everybody. But did her father always plan on hiding her magic from the public forever?"

"Listen, I was just the bookkeeper. I only discovered Her Majesty's powers by accident, not because I was a close confidant of King Agnarr," Nilsson asserted. "I have no idea how he originally intended to handle his heir's magic in the long term. You will need to ask the Queen about such things. I never had much direct interaction with the royals, even after I found out. I saw her use magic, or the effects of her magic, only seven times before the gates were shut, so I'm not much help to you."

"Considering how well the family kept the magic a secret, that's a veritable trove of data. I'll take anything I can get. But if you don't want to talk about it, I understand," Duffin said. "It must have been uncomfortable to keep something so extraordinary to yourself for so long."

"Oh, you're looking at it from the perspective of someone obsessed with magic and finding proof of its existence. But if you look beyond the magic, you may have noticed that Her Majesty is a decent human being. As were her parents," Nilsson said. "It was very easy to respect the family's privacy in regard to the magic, just as I didn't go around blabbing to the general populace about how much they spent on staffing, clothes, or hospitality. It was a little harder not to tell Princess Anna, when she would make her rounds, moaning about how her sister ignored her. As tempting as it was to explain to her that big sis wasn't doing it to be spiteful or out of disapproval, we couldn't trust Her Highness not to do something impulsive if she had learned about the magic."

"Did the King ever threaten you?" Duffin asked bluntly.

"Agnarr of Arendelle was not that type of ruler," Nilsson defended. "He merely asked me to never tell anyone else. Of course I knew that I could have been executed or imprisoned, and I don't know what he would have done if I had wanted to expose their little secret. But I sincerely didn't want to rock the boat, and he understood that. I have my moments of impudence, but I also know when to be serious. This is going to sound old-fashioned and sappy, but I believe in being loyal to a reasonable, conscientious, _good_ leader. King Agnarr had Arendelle's and his family's best interests at heart. I didn't want to wreck the lives of an upstanding family or bring about my country's downfall. This isn't such a bad place to live, and maybe it's selfish of me, but I would like to keep it that way. Speaking of which, here is my den of iniquity."

They stopped in front of a snug-looking and well-maintained house perched on one of the lower rises that bordered the inlet. "You must have a lovely view of the harbor and castle," Duffin said.

"I do. It may not be the biggest house, but this is prime real estate by town standards. Would you like to come in or continue the conversation tomorrow?" Nilsson offered as she opened the front door.

"I don't want to bother your husband, Minister," the historian demurred.

"I'm happily single, Miss Duffin," Nilsson said with an impish grin. "Currently, there isn't even a dog or cat to mooch off of me, so you won't be disturbing anybody." She gestured invitingly toward the interior.

"I see. Well, if it genuinely won't put you out, I'd like to talk to you tonight," Duffin said. "I've had to scrap most of the questions that I had planned to ask now that I know she was born with functional powers. From what I gather about Her Majesty's schedule, this might be my only chance for a one-on-one conversation with her, and I want to make the most of it."

The two women entered, and Nilsson stopped to light a candelabrum, illuminating a cozy sitting room. The furniture was simple and practical, but well-made. The Arendellian removed the grate from the fireplace, raked the embers, and added a few more sticks, bringing the flames back to life. Duffin deposited the gifts from the Snow Queen by the coat rack.

"Can I get you anything to drink or eat, Miss Duffin?" Nilsson asked as she carefully removed a crocheted blanket that was still a work in progress from the sofa. The pattern of nautical motifs gave a hint about its intended recipients. She beckoned for Duffin to have a seat.

"Oh, please, no," Duffin playfully groaned as she settled in. "After tonight's portions, I don't even want to think about breakfast."

"Well, I'm going to make myself a cup of cocoa. Princess Anna has formulated a wonderful recipe. It's just the right nightcap after a big meal and a busy day," Nilsson said as she walked into the kitchen and stoked the fire in the stove.

"You make that sound so tempting," Duffin wavered as her hostess filled a kettle from a pitcher of water, and set it on the cooktop to boil.

"It's as easy to make two cups as one - and I can definitely drink two, if you decide you don't want it," Nilsson said. "Although I should mind my intake nowadays. All these dinners and luncheons at the castle can do a number on a lady's or a gentleman's figure. A lot of us recently appointed high-muck-a-mucks have put on weight since our selection."

"Now I'm duty-bound to drink it to save your waistline," Duffin teased.

"The sacrifices that we make for people we hardly know," Nilsson deadpanned as she produced mugs and storage jars from the buffet's hutch.

"It's the least I can do for you, Minister. You're being very generous with your time, so I need to find a suitable way to thank you. Maybe I can buy you a few rounds at the booth selling hard cider," Duffin proposed.

"Oh, don't worry about compensating me! Besides, despite the impression you may have formed tonight, I'm really _not_ that much of a drinker. I only resort to it in particular social settings. It's a coping mechanism," Nilsson confessed. She added the ingredients to the mugs with a meticulous eye and a steady hand.

"I see. Well, I'm grateful you took us under your wing at the reception, and I'm truly beholden to you for indulging my curiosity on such short notice, and I'll make it up to you somehow or other. I will not take 'no' for an answer. Most of the people that I depend on for solid leads and valuable information aren't anywhere near as well off as you, so I feel a strong obligation to give my sources something in return," Duffin justified.

"I'm not sure how valuable the information you get from me will be," Nilsson reiterated. "Her Majesty was only a little girl."

Nilsson poured the hot water into the mugs and stirred, before reaching into a chest that was clearly the work of the Snow Queen. She produced a chilled bottle of milk and decanted a measure into each cup. She handed Duffin the libation, and sat down in a comfortable arm chair across from the sofa. Both women took sips.

"Mmmm, that's fit for a princess," Duffin pronounced.

"Her Highness did a lot of 'research' to hit upon the combination. By the time she was satisfied with the results, all of us taste-testers were sick of cocoa for a while. Except Queen Elsa. When it comes to chocolate, I suspect she could drink everyone else under the table," Nilsson said breezily.

"A woman of many talents," Duffin bantered, and took another sip. "Speaking of which, I'd like to get down to business, so as to not keep you up too late. If you would, please describe all the times you saw or felt Her Majesty use magic before the gates closed, along with the circumstances and everyone's reactions. How did the bookkeeper accidentally stumble across the Snow Queen?"

"Master Kai was out sick, and I think the King forgot that I was handing in the expense reports myself. Or he merely forgot that the Crown Princess was still in the study with him, or didn't notice what she was doing to occupy herself when he gave me permission to enter. He could get very engrossed in his work. Plus, he was worried about Queen Iduna, who was having a difficult pregnancy," Nilsson divulged.

"What was she doing to occupy herself? Playing in snow?" Duffin asked.

"I was present for the completion of one of Her Majesty's first ice palaces, if not _the_ first," Nilsson beamed. "Well, it looked roughly like one of the houses in town, but it was almost as tall as she was. The door and windows were out of square, the ornamental details were rudimentary and almost blurry, and it didn't have an interior, but the pitched roof was a very credible replica when it sprang into existence fully formed."

"How old was she?" Duffin asked in amazement.

"Three years and some months, I reckon. Princess Anna was still in the womb," Nilsson said, and took a long swallow of cocoa.

"So even at that young of an age, she had enough control over her powers to copy what she saw from the castle," Duffin lauded. "Very impressive."

"Queen Elsa and her 'structures.' She always has been a builder," Nilsson said affectionately.

"How did you take it?" Duffin laughed.

"Rather well, all things considered," Nilsson reminisced. "I let out a shriek, of course, and said a few phrases that were unsuitable for genteel company. But I didn't faint, or charge off to rally a lynch mob. We did, however, have a chore getting rid of the ice and snow that I startled out of the poor little thing. Meltwater and important documents aren't a good mix."

"Oh, my," Duffin cringed. "So she couldn't do a miniature Great Thaw yet?"

"I don't know if she couldn't, or if it simply didn't occur to her that she could," Nilsson shrugged. "You would have to ask her."

"It's doubtful whether she'll be able to recollect clearly," Duffin pointed out. "Did her father ask her to try to make the snow and ice disappear?"

"No. She had ducked for cover under the King's desk when I made my ruckus. It took a little gentle coaxing from her father and me to get her to come out and turn off the cold and the snow. The magnitude was small -nothing like the Eternal Winter- but it was enough to spell trouble for the paperwork if she had kept it up for much longer," Nilsson explained.

"And you weren't frightened by this child who could somehow generate cold and make snow and ice?" Duffin posed.

"Not after the first few moments, when I saw how much she trusted and minded her father. And how apologetic she was about the mess. Her motive for making the house was also very reassuring: She said that she -and I quote verbatim- 'made it for the baby to play with.' Naturally, it was going to melt before the next day was over, never mind lasting until Princess Anna graced us with her presence, but a magical tot who makes toys for her yet-to-born sibling is _not_ a monster. Which isn't to say that I didn't see potential disaster for the furnishings and books, but she was just a sweetheart," Nilsson said fondly.

"So she was a cheerful child?" Duffin asked pensively, and nipped at her beverage.

"In a quiet way. She was eager to learn and to help her father with his work. A born queen," Nilsson replied with surprising gravity. "Which is also as weird for this dynasty as having magical powers. They've tended to be frivolous scamps when they're children. The second time I saw her magic was the ice patches she created when she was skipping to the study. Her Majesty could read and do sums at a very young age, so King Agnarr set her to doing minor calculations and sorting and filing correspondences for him. I guess she was so excited to get to her duties that she just couldn't contain the magic."

"Daddy's little assistant at four years old?" Duffin marveled.

"It was just a token contribution at that stage. I'm sure it was more about cultivating her work ethic and encouraging her intellect than anything else," Nilsson said between swigs.

"But as a small child she genuinely _liked_ doing _work_?" Duffin asked with a touch of incredulity.

"I think she liked _helping_ ," Nilsson suggested. "The third time I saw her use magic was when I was having difficulty putting a ledger book back on a top shelf in the study; she made a stepping block for me, without any prompting. Actually, without seeming to think about it. The King praised her for lending a hand, but mildly scolded her for not asking for permission to use magic.

"And the fourth time, she directed blasts of cold wind to dust off the baseboards in the library and the adjacent hallway so that a housemaid wouldn't have to clean them. She tried to pass it off as a prank, with a sly giggle and a conspiratorial wink. I must admit the look on the maid's face was priceless when she realized that there was nothing to wipe off of the trim, and couldn't figure out why there was a neat pile of grime on the floor in every corner. But if you could have seen that little girl's beautiful smile when the maid exclaimed that she didn't need to spend the next hour or so on her knees..." Nilsson tapered off and stared at the contents of her mug. "It was the practical joke of an angel."

"A child with so much power at her disposal usually bodes ill, and yet Her Majesty's early instinct was to use her magic in beneficial ways?" Duffin asked in disbelief, and quaffed more cocoa.

"My overall sense was that she was one of those shy, peaceable magical beings in the stories," Nilsson stated. "Like the ones who do some good deed for the overworked, honest farmer when he's not looking; sneak in gifts for deserving children on holidays; or who aid the hero or heroine on the noble quest."

"I can't reconcile that assessment -and what I saw today at the waterfront and at dinner- with someone who spent thirteen years trying not to use her powers at all," Duffin contended.

"She's indicated that it's complicated. A good nature and helpful intentions do not preclude being dangerous, or even just socially awkward, if you have so much power at your disposal," Nilsson supposed. "For example, somewhere along the line, creating small ice patches while skipping in a hallway turned into creating an expanse of ice that spread out from our fjord to disrupt maritime travel throughout most of the Skagerrak and even into the North Sea."

"But one could argue that if the Snow Queen had been in practice and knew her own strength, the Eternal Winter would have never happened when the secret of her powers was revealed," Duffin disputed.

"I don't think her powers could have been kept secret if she had continued using them," Nilsson put forward. "She almost gave herself away the last three times I saw her magic. In one of the castle's more public hallways that overlook the garden, there was a tiny facsimile of the flower beds, hedges, and trees done in ice on a windowsill. It wasn't as gloriously detailed as the sculptures she does now, but her skill was obvious. Good thing that the sun was rapidly turning it into a small pool of water, before it could draw too much attention."

"She made it and left it to melt?" Duffin asked.

"You will have to ask Queen Elsa when she acquired the ability to make snow and ice that are impervious to heat. And it's not necessarily a given that she noticed that she created it. Art is especially something of a reflex for the Snow Queen, even now. By the way, as a word of warning: Unintentional discharges of her powers are a topic that you need to approach from the right direction," Nilsson cautioned. "Her Majesty is _very_ touchy about freezing Princess Anna's heart. And damaging some of the guests' ships during the Eternal Winter. And spawning the Snowgies and launching that snowball from the _bukkehorn_."

"Thank you for the heads-up. I don't want to get thrown out on my ear, to borrow Minister Haugen's felicitous phrase," Duffin said.

"Oh, she isn't going to throw out a _guest_ ," _Nilsson_ insisted. "Unless, of course, you commence with drunken insults. It's just that you need to broach certain subjects slowly and diplomatically, if you hope to have a meaningful interview with her and to have a chance of being invited back. Queen Elsa is an expert at metaphorically icing over a conversation, and she's probably the world champion at being 'unavailable' to talk. There are times when no one gets anywhere with her."

"Well, I imagine that just goes with the territory of dealing with a reigning monarch. And she has a better reason than most royalty to be standoffish," Duffin allowed.

"Eh, she doesn't have her sister's freewheeling manner, but she certainly doesn't demand to be placed on a pedestal," Nilsson maintained. "She just doesn't like thinly veiled accusations and overly presumptuous prying. I mean, who does? The Queen might not be very good at delivering a joke, but she appreciates wit and humor. You'll understand better when you see the magic show. She probably still isn't above some of the lowbrow clowning that she did when she was a child. Have you ever traced on a fogged mirror or windowpane? Let's just say that I saw evidence that Her Majesty used frost to embellish her reflection in one of the mirrors in the main hallway. At what would have been the level of her head's height, someone had drawn glasses, a rather scraggly beard, and donkey ears."

"Donkey ears?" Duffin snorted.

"Or maybe they were rabbit ears. She wasn't quite eight years old," Nilsson said with a smile. "I probably would have opted for devil's horns myself, but then I wasn't raised a princess." She sipped her cocoa very daintily, theatrically raising her little finger as she brought the mug to her lips.

"Did anyone else notice?" Duffin asked.

"I don't think so. Mistress Gerda dabbed it off as soon as we saw it," Nilsson recollected. "We both knew it was a close call, even if we did laugh."

"And the last one?" Duffin drained her mug.

"The mess in the ball room that immediately lead to shutting the gates," Nilsson said somberly.

"How bad was it?" Duffin asked, matching the Arendellian's serious mood.

"Snow drifts around the room's perimeter. Mounds of snow everywhere. Smooth ice covering the floor. Frost up all the walls, columns, draperies, and even on the ceiling. And the stuff was melting. It was a race against time to avert a flood and save the woodwork, not mention keep inquiring minds from wondering where all the water came from, so Master Kai summoned the few of us who knew the secret to shovel, chip, scrape, haul, mop, and blot. Fortunately, we could dump it all in the fjord without being seen. Part of me was proud of her for surpassing all of her predecessors in the mischief-making stakes; another part of me was extremely irate at getting dragged out of bed to perform manual labor. We worked throughout the night and into the early morning, while the rest of the staff received an unscheduled half-day holiday - before most of them got severance pay and letters of recommendation or reassigned to positions outside of the castle."

"Any ideas about what brought it on?" Duffin wondered.

"You would have to ask Queen Elsa, but she hasn't spoken about it openly, so don't expect an answer," Nilsson said flatly. "It was probably just inevitable. Even the best-behaved children have at least one bout of bad judgment, or an instance of simple ignorance or curiosity that goes awry. She might have been experimenting, because there was a series of snow piles that was getting either progressively taller or shorter."

"Testing out her control got out of control, perhaps?" Duffin conjectured.

"And then papa and mama caught her in the act, and forbade any use of magic that could cause catastrophic property damage - or accidentally reveal her powers to the wider world," Nilsson speculated. "It's a plausible scenario."

"And somehow it escalated into voluntary isolation," Duffin concluded. "Or punitive confinement."

"As I said, Queen Elsa has never openly spoken about it. I honestly don't know the whole story," Nilsson countered, and polished off her drink.

"But you knew that somebody slipped cookies under her door. Was somebody doing that out of friendship, or out of necessity?" Duffin angled.

"Princess Anna would do it to try to persuade her to come out. Some of the staff did it because often there was no other way for her to have a cookie that was still warm from the oven. Although I'm not sure if 'warm from the oven' means anything to Her Majesty," Nilsson said.

"So none of the adults, even the ones that knew about the magic, had any reservations about Queen Elsa's reclusiveness? The only major concern was that she wasn't getting fresh-baked cookies?" Duffin asked with a raised brow.

"You must remember that we're not talking about a step-daughter forced to clean hearths or a kidnapped child locked in a tower with only three books and a little bit of paint and a few brushes. She was an extremely well-off crown princess who was being groomed to govern, not to be a socialite," Nilsson huffed. "Keeping a small country with a short growing season independent and prospering is harder than you might think. She was being properly and thoroughly trained to take the reins, to make decisions that would affect the whole country and shape our future, so who was going to question the King about why the heir kept mostly to herself?"

"I didn't mean to imply that you or the other employees should have confronted the King," Duffin said placatingly. "I just wondered if ... there was any reason to think the situation being handled ... unfairly."

"Another word of warning: Do _not_ suggest to Her Majesty that she was mistreated," Nilsson advised. "The insinuation has been made before, and it has not been warmly received, figuratively or literally."

"Duly noted. It's just that given the cultural ambivalence about magic, the unknown, and the abnormal, some parents might have used ... dubious techniques to get their child to comply and conform," Duffin explained.

"As I said, King Agnarr of Arendelle was not that type of ruler, and Her Majesty understood and embraced her royal station very early on. The world was lucky. I don't want to imagine what disasters I would have caused if I had been born with magical powers, and how my parents would have reacted. If they didn't kill me outright, I doubt I would have been very obedient about restraining my powers and keeping myself segregated from everybody else, either," Nilsson admitted.

"I was going to ask if anyone else finds Her Majesty's virtue even more extraordinary than her magic," Duffin ventured. "Most humans would yield to the various temptations. Even the temptation to set things 'right.' "

"It's the main reason why the vast majority of the people didn't say 'yea' when she offered to abdicate and go dwell even deeper in mountains. Princess Anna reminded everyone that her sister had fully intended to live out the rest of her life in isolation, in order to keep all of us safe from her magic. Either as a hermit-queen in the castle, if she had kept her powers hidden; or as an elusive loner above the snow line, once she outed herself. That kind of devotion -maybe it's not such a stretch to call it true love- doesn't happen every day," Nilsson mulled. She rose from the chair and took Duffin's empty mug.

"It's clear that Queen Elsa is a force of good," Duffin agreed, checking the clock and seeing that it would be courteous to bid her host a good night.

"Both of the girls are," Nilsson noted as she walked to the sink and washed the cups. "Her Highness may be a bit rough around the edges and rash, but she means well. We've been blessed with a royal family that's our true national treasure."

"It must be nice to have leadership that you can really get behind," Duffin said with a trace of envy. "Even when they kick each other under the table at dinner." She stood up and stretched her legs, examining the blanket, yarn, and crochet hooks in the process.

"I realize how amateur Arendelle's royalty must seem, since you Western Islanders are used to grander _coups de main_ and juicier scandals," Nilsson ribbed.

"In contrast, our high-and-mighty wouldn't show the initiative to develop an excellent recipe for hot cocoa and then share it with everyone, so I think you all come out ahead," Duffin acknowledged. "Arendelle certainly has a culture of generosity and helpfulness. Thank you so much for your time tonight. I am deeply indebted to you."

"Oh, please don't make this out to be a big deal," Duffin deflected. "Sometimes an old maid enjoys listening to herself talk."

"Well, perhaps we can chat again," Duffin said. "I originally planned to stay in Arendelle for a month, but I can already tell that I'll be here for at least the whole winter. Even if we somehow exhaust the scope of the Snow Queen's powers -which I sincerely doubt- this would be a fine place to work on my manuscript." She gathered the magical souvenirs from dinner.

"If the tourists find out who you are, you're liable to get swamped with autograph requests," Nilsson laughed.

"Then I'll try to keep a low profile, unless I need to bump up book sales," Duffin rejoined with a smile as she walked to the door. "Thank you again. You've given me some good points to consider. With luck, the interview will go a little more smoothly than dinner and the reception."

"You'll do fine, dear," Nilsson encouraged and held the door open for her visitor. "And the Queen is used to things going awry. I'm sure tonight's dramatics were nothing more than a minor nuisance for her. Except missing out on the chocolate cake. That was probably a nasty shock to her system. If Princess Anna has _any_ sense in her head, she'll be bringing her big sister hot cocoa by the bucketful for at least a week."

"Good night, Minister Nilsson," Duffin said with genuine warmth and stepped out into the cloudy night.

"Good night, Miss Duffin," the Arendellian said with sincere friendliness, and waved as the historian walked off toward the main part of town. She stood on her threshold and looked up at the flickering stars and ragged clouds. "If both of those girls have _any_ sense in their heads, they'll realize that a second chance to be sisters doesn't happen every day, either," she muttered to herself, and in the dim glow from the candelabrum, it was easy to fail to notice the tears in her eyes as she turned to go in.

 **Author's Notes - After sucessfully convincing my clients that just because I like my job, it doesn't mean that I want to work 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, I'm back! This is another chapter that had to be split into two volumes due to my egregious verbosity. I'll try to keep them shorter henceforth.**

 ** _Lacerta vivipara_ is the older binomial name of _Zootoca vivipara_. We need a lot of choreographed chaos at the Harvest Festival Ball.**

 **I tried to keep the characterization of pre-isolation Elsa in agreement with what we see in "Frozen" and the two shorts. Young Elsa's fondness for the people of Arendelle is apparent in the bell-ringing flashback in "Olaf's Frozen Adventure." It's almost like she can't wait to do stuff for them. Elsa's distaste for incarcerating people/things will be a major plot point.**

 **True love not happening every day is a shout out to "The Princess Bride."**


	32. Chapter 32

Ch. 32 Nightcap, Volume 1

Princess Anna of Arendelle stared out her bedroom window for a long time after Elsa left, watching the twinkling stars play hide-and-seek amidst the rolling clouds, and contemplated the conversation she had just had with her sister. Learning how to run the kingdom was going to be awful.

She had never really given much thought to what her father or sister actually _did_ , or Arendelle's long-term future. When the gates were shut -which had been for most of her life- she had always assumed that being the ruler of a small country like Arendelle wasn't too hard and that the future sorted itself out naturally. Even after Elsa's powers were revealed, and the dull, irrelevant speck on the map that they called home suddenly became internationally famous, it seemed everything happened "like magic," as though Elsa could bend all of reality, and not just the temperature and forms of frozen water, to her will with a mere thought.

It was obvious now that there was nothing "mere" about Elsa's thoughts, and that there was a titanic effort going on behind the scenes to keep the nation and its citizens flourishing. The "continuous process" that Elsa spoke of was at odds with the classic, straightforward final resolution that Anna was so used to from stories, and part of her believed that her workaholic, worrywart, perfectionist sister was making things more complicated than they needed or ought to be.

But then again, a little more than a year ago Anna also believed that she knew what "true love" was, or at least believed she had a better grasp of it than her cold, condescending, hypocritical sister, only to find herself a short time later confessing her total ignorance about love to an impossible, living snowman. An impossible, living snowman who conveniently happened to have enough understanding of love to rescue her from despair and delicately nudge her conscience in the direction that would save her life; who happened to be unconsciously granted life and somehow endowed with this expertise by her seemingly cold, seemingly condescending, seemingly hypocritical sister. So perhaps using works of fiction as a guide for real life was unwise, and maybe listening to Elsa to begin with for once would be smart.

Anna sighed at the thought of everything her kind, gracious, virtuous sister had been through, and was clearly prepared to continue going through, to ensure that everyone else could live happily ever after. It was so unfair that there was no good way to make up for the childhood that Elsa had lost. Anna had often been shocked and horrified by Elsa's awkwardly stoic or painfully hesitant accounts of what had, and had _not_ , gone on and been said behind closed doors. And she had doubts that Elsa was telling her the full extent of it.

How her sister endured those thirteen formative years of isolation, fear, and inhuman demands without becoming a monster or at least becoming unable to function was a mystery to Anna. She considered it something of a miracle that Elsa knew anything at all about love, and it was unsurprising that her concept of the emotion was currently limited to the self-sacrificing kind.

Anna growled in exasperation. Trying to help Elsa feel comfortable with herself and others was difficult enough without so many people at least initially reinforcing the conviction that Elsa was dangerous. Monsieur d'Ambly was correct that no one came to court Elsa, despite all the other types of guests who requested her time. In Anna's estimation, Elsa needed to mingle with people as herself instead of as the Queen of Arendelle or as the Snow Queen, but it was impossible to do with all these various visitors and sometimes even the local populace acting like Elsa was either a kind of unpredictable force of nature or a superstar celebrity. And now Grand Pabbie, their greatest magical ally, was suggesting Elsa would lose control in the future. It was no wonder Elsa was even now a little wary of her powers and afraid for other people. Since fear was _still_ the Snow Queen's enemy, this was a problem.

And Elsa's contention that being struck in the heart by her magic was certain doom was an additional problem. She pondered over her sister's claim, trying to find flaws in the assertion, which admittedly was not her strong suit. But there _had_ to be one. After all, during the evening's distress and tension, she loved Kristoff solely for the person he was. Surely she could do it even if her life depended on it. Surely Elsa, who didn't seem to comprehend romantic love, was wrong and the thought of one's beloved would override any terror and desperation, even if those burning cold shards of ice were spreading-

Anna abruptly stopped that train of thought, shivered, and hugged herself tightly, rubbing each hand on the opposite upper arm to keep the bitter memory at bay. She suddenly had an intense desire for a cup of hot cocoa and to snuggle up against Kristoff and let him reassure and hold her, but he was probably already asleep, and it would be inconsiderate to wake him over something as silly as imagining that she felt cold.

The cocoa, however, was quite enticing, so she donned the heaviest robe in her closet and socks and slippers before heading downstairs to the kitchen. At the base of the steps, she noticed a ruined table, which must have been the source of the crashing sound, and tried to figure out how Elsa had managed to do that. Then she sighed when she saw _all_ of the ice sculptures of the North Mountain.

"She definitely needs a vacation, or at least more playtime," Anna murmured to herself, shaking her head.

She quietly crept down the dim hall. It was a holdover from the days when her parents frowned on her wandering around the castle after the workday was done. She opened the kitchen door slowly, not wanting to startle any of the staff if they were still busy. But the hour was late, and everyone seemed to have turned in for the night. She lit more candles in their sconces, giving the large room a cheery radience.

The fires were still smoldering in the bellies of the cast iron stoves, and she opened the damper on one of them to fan the fire back up to temperature, and placed a small pot of water on it to boil. The kitchen had been one of her favorite spots to pass the time when she was a child; it was a place to reliably find company and cake. Anna had learned how to use the stove both by observation and pestering the staff with questions. The pleasant recollections of talking with the cooks and scullery maids and the physical warmth of the room helped to chase away the phantom sensation of the excruciating, incapacitating cold seeping through her entire body.

She took off her robe and draped it over one of the chairs before rummaging through the pantry for cocoa, sugar, salt, vanilla, and cinnamon. With her back turned, she missed seeing a small, scaly creature scuttle across the floor. She set the ingredients on a table, retrieved a mug from a cabinet, and spooned generous amounts of cocoa and sugar into the cup and added a shake of cinnamon and a dash of salt. The only thing left to do was wait for the water to heat up.

Anna smiled both fondly and puckishly as the bubbles on the bottom of the pot grew larger. She couldn't help thinking of that night a few weeks after the Great Thaw when Elsa had been working late, had the hankering for a cup of cocoa, and so for the first time in her life tried to cook something herself, only to be stymied by the water's stubborn refusal to cooperate. The Snow Queen's frustration and confusion about her newly-discovered inability -and the realization that Anna was going to tease her about it forever- had been hilarious. Once Elsa's craving had been satisfied thanks to Anna's assistance and her magic was idling, she finally succeeded in doing one of the most ancient, simple, and universal things in the world, and her childlike fascination with the rapidly rising and bursting bubbles was utterly endearing, if a little poignant.

Anna filled the mug halfway with the hot water, and stirred briskly. She let the cocoa bloom and the sugar dissolve for about a minute before adding a little more water and a few drops of vanilla extract. She grabbed a bottle of milk from the icebox -one of Elsa's magical contrivances- and topped off her mug with a liberal splash of the finest dairy product that Arendelle's Sætersdal region had to offer. She swirled the spoon as she waited for the cocoa to cool to a tolerable temperature. After another minute, she took a swig of the delectable beverage and hummed with delight. She lounged in a chair and savored the elixir, all unsettling memories banished to the background.

 _This_ was the proper way to wind down after an eventful day, and if Elsa hadn't been nearly sleepwalking back to her bedroom, she would make another cup and bring it to her sister. If only Elsa would allow herself the luxury of an afternoon nap once in a while, they could have more late night kitchen raids (if it were possible to raid one's own kitchen) and make up for some of the hijinks that they missed out on when they were younger.

But naturally Elsa would never snooze on the job, even though she could do as she pleased, and there was no one who would dare reproach her for it. Again, Anna wondered what was the point of being a queen, of having all those responsibilities but apparently little freedom, of having power but rarely using any of it for her own personal benefit. She knew from anecdotes that her parents had told her and from Master -now Minister- Rogalund's lessons that many past and present rulers certainly exploited their authority for their own advantage without much concern for how it affected their subjects or the futures of their countries, so it wouldn't be an outrage or the end of the world if Elsa slacked off now and then.

Anna drank the last sip of her nightcap and scooped out the delicious slurry left at the bottom of the mug, and tried to look on the bright side of helping Elsa with her duties. Maybe it really would allow Elsa to finish work earlier, and then she could either nap to prepare for or recuperate from an evening escapade, or she could get out of the castle for an afternoon. Both of which would go a long way towards providing her sister with the happy ending she deserved.

However, it was just as probable that the Queen would simply employ her to get more work done during her regular business day; after all, this was intended to be instruction in how to manage the kingdom - and presumably a remedial class in court decorum. Neither of which sounded enjoyable.

Anna scowled as she washed the cup and spoon, and returned everything where it came from, and while her back was turned again, the small, scaly creature scurried once more. As much as being "the spare" had aggravated her insecurity, being "the heir" was even worse. Especially since she had hardly been trained for it before now. She had hardly been trained for much of anything pertaining to the real world before now, and she was beginning to understand how badly it had skewed her perspectives and expectations. Although Elsa insisted that their parents had done the best they could, Anna sometimes couldn't help finding fault ... even though she had to admit that she had adored her father at the time for not being anywhere near as stern and exacting of a taskmaster with her as he had been with Elsa. Anna decided that she _definitely_ inherited her short-sightedness from her papa.

She was almost tempted to make herself another cup of cocoa to improve her mood again, but she was beginning to feel drowsy, and she only had a few days left to finalize the playlist for the Harvest Festival ball, oversee some more of the ball room and courtyard decorating, and drop off invoices at Minister Nilsson's office. If only her crash course in governing and the actual administration of the kingdom would be as easy and fun as planning a party with someone else footing the bills, she would ace the assignment.

Anna reminded herself that Elsa was genuinely being fair to her and treating her like an adult, that Elsa genuinely believed in her, that Elsa genuinely loved her. She _could_ do this, especially with Elsa teaching her and encouraging her. And maybe those traditional, static happy endings were a little boring, anyway.

She extinguished most of the candles, gathered her robe, and slung it over her shoulder before giving the room one more glance to make sure she had tidied up everything. She had already gotten enough of the kitchen staff in trouble without someone being accused of leaving a mess for the early morning crew. Satisfied that she had left no trace of her visit, she walked purposefully back to her bedroom. She tossed the robe on the floor and removed the slippers and socks now that her chill had passed, and slid between the sheets. She had one week of being footloose and fancy-free before she had to learn the family trade, and she was going to make the most of it.

She nestled her head into a pillow and stared back out the window at the twinkling stars and clouds, feeling a little more positive about what lay ahead.

 **Author's Notes - The way Anna dusts some of the baked goods with powdered sugar (or whatever it was supposed to be) in "Olaf's Frozen Adventure" suggests that she knows her way around a kitchen.**

 **Sætersdal is an older name of Setesdal, which is a valley in real-life Aust-Agder. It seems to have some agricultural history (the etymology is roughly "valley of the farmsteads"), so that's going to be where most of fictional Arendelle's crops are grown.**


	33. Chapter 33

33\. Real And Complex Analysis

"Oh, I ate too much," John Scurr groaned as he slid into bed next to his wife. His hair and beard were still perfect.

"Quit your bellyaching, Doctor," Irene teased. "Nobody forced you to clean your plate each course."

"I didn't want to offend my employer," John retorted light-heartedly.

"Which seemingly put you in the minority tonight," Irene noted dryly. "That was a very strange dinner party. Actually, the whole day was highly unusual."

"Welcome to Arendelle, I guess," John remarked. "We were apprised that this place is on the unusual side. Any misgivings about our decision, now that you've seen it a bit?"

"Well, I hadn't given much thought to the international relations here," Irene confessed. "You know that I'm allergic to politics."

"I doubt we'll be mixing with the diplomats very often. Tonight was a special occasion," John reminded her. "I'll be too busy working in the clinics, teaching, and studying the Queen's magic, and you'll be too busy bringing little lives into the world to take tea with ambassadors."

"And too busy making sure Adam and Beatrice aren't bringing home lizards and bugs," Irene quipped.

"We knew that we were taking the children to a magic kingdom, that a few escapades are going to be inescapable. And for the record, tonight's bedtime tuck-in was one of the smoothest we've ever had," John pointed out.

"Except for Beatrice wanting to know what the Princess did to cause trouble. What are we going to tell her?" Irene asked.

"The truth," John said simply. "That Princess Anna more or less spoiled her sister's dessert in a misguided attempt to reprimand the Queen for not finishing her supper."

"I suppose it doesn't sound so bad or worth imitating when you phrase it like that," Irene allowed. "But I don't want our little ones to get any designs. I suspect that, as big-hearted as Princess Anna is, she might not always set the best example for impressionable young minds."

"Says the woman who flung a snowball squarely at a crown princess' forehead more than once today," John accused facetiously.

"It was a sanctioned, all-comers snowball fight! Her Highness was giving as good as she got," Irene said with mock defensiveness. "If she's off-limits, she shouldn't have participated."

"Yes, but I get the feeling things can quickly turn from all-comers to off-limits. It isn't always just fun and games in Arendelle," John repeated soberly. "Like the young woman we met whose brother fell through the ice. I suspect that, as big-hearted as Princess Anna is, she might be a little more vulnerable than she lets on."

"She was certainly upset by Monsieur d'Ambly's outburst," Irene agreed. "Much more so than the Queen appeared to be, even though Her Majesty took the brunt of it. And the Princess' reaction this afternoon when Beatrice said that her sister must have been fun to play with was surprising."

"Not really, after I thought about it a little when-" John began.

"When you were combing your hair?" Irene tweaked.

"When I was watching the royal sisters interact this evening," John corrected with faux impatience. "Princess Anna was just as shocked as everyone else when her sister's powers were revealed, so the logical conclusion is that there never were any magically enhanced playtimes. And given the reported gist of Princess Anna's own outburst at the coronation ball, they probably didn't do much conventional playing together, either."

Irene mulled over her husband's line of reasoning. "Doesn't sound like much fun was had. I suppose I can understand Her Highness being a little overenthusiastic about certain things now. But we need to make it very clear to the children that just because the Princess or Olaf does something, it doesn't mean they should do it, too. Or even tag along."

"And here I thought your biggest concern would be Beatrice falling under the Queen's sway in matters of fashion," John wisecracked.

"Yes, well, I can't say I'm totally pleased about the cut of that dress, especially without stockings, but since it hasn't started a trend, and since the welfare of children seems to be a top priority for Her Majesty, I am prepared to accept a few trifling eccentricities," Irene proclaimed drolly.

"Is that a fancy way of saying you like her?" John queried.

"I like her as much as I can like a person that I've barely met. What she did at that little waterfront demonstration was on the intimidating side," Irene admitted, "but so far she's living up to her reputation for generosity and far-sightedness. What do you think of her?"

"Before we found out that the Queen ate a big lunch, I did side with Princess Anna that Her Majesty ought to have done a better job on her roast beef - although not to the point that I thought a public scolding was called for. She was astonishingly composed and considerate through of all tonight's gaffes," John lauded. "Neither an eruption of magic nor of mundane temper."

"After everything I saw today, I have a hard time believing someone so self-controlled once accidentally froze the country," Irene stated.

"At the table discussion this morning, she told us that she panicked when her powers slipped," John explained. "And then she thought she had fled far enough away to loosen up, without affecting anyone else."

Irene was silent for a few beats as she inferred some of the unspoken details. "Thank goodness Adam and Beatrice don't have magic," she finally said and resisted the urge to go hug the now-sleeping boy and girl. "As amazing as Queen Elsa is, I'm glad our children are perfectly ordinary. No powers, no aristocratic titles."

John rolled onto his side and drew his wife close. "Me, too," he sighed. "Just a normal family is all I ever wanted, and ever will want."

"I knew you had a good head on your shoulders, Dr. Scurr," Irene said softly as she ruffled his hair. It was a little nighttime ritual of theirs.

"Thanks a bunch, Midwife Scurr," he responded as always, snuggling up against her.

"We should get some rest. We might have to help Prof. Mandelbaum get Debora out of the castle's art gallery tomorrow," Irene chuckled.

"Always ready to assist those in need, that's our motto," John murmured as he shut his eyes and breathed in the scent of the woman he loved. He _was_ tired from all the day's activities, and the weight of a full stomach was lulling him to sleep.

[][][][][] [][][][][] [][][][][]

"Oh, I think we made a mistake coming here," Eliasz Mandelbaum groaned as he slid into bed next to his wife.

"Quit your bellyaching, Professor," Debora reproved. "You don't really mean that. _Here_ is not nearly as bad as _there_."

"You know that I'm allergic to politics," Eliasz bleated.

"You won't be exposed to much of it," Debora insisted. "You'll be teaching at the university, studying the Queen's magic, or doing research and development with Waclaw. And I sincerely doubt that anyone will march in and forcibly shut down Arendelle's university until further notice. Unlike _there_."

"But perhaps we should reevaluate some of the other places that had academic posts available," Eliasz hedged. "I have two weeks to make my final decision before confirming that I'll join the staff here."

"None of the other schools allow women to enroll," Debora said emphatically. "We came to Arendelle as much for the opportunity for Zlata to get a degree as for your career."

"Why does the most scholastically progressive country in the world also have to be the most dangerous?" Eliasz whined.

"Arendelle is hardly the most dangerous country, and you _know_ it," Debora admonished. "This place is stable politically, thriving economically, and tolerant socially. Not exactly a powder keg ready to go off. You were so eager to come here and teach and investigate the magic. What's gotten into you?"

"This place is also filled with people who are foolish enough to provoke someone who could kill everybody at least seven different ways," Eliasz grumbled.

"And you don't think a run-of-the-mill monarch doesn't have a wide selection of ways to have everybody killed? That the Emperor that we left behind didn't get 'imaginative' when punishing some of the rebels and dissidents?" Debora reproached.

"Yes, but everyone knows better than to cross the Emperor, whereas we just saw two people do it in one night here," Eliasz argued.

"First off, not everyone _there_ knew better than to cross the Emperor, or else you wouldn't have been looking for a new position," Debora observed dryly. "Secondly, we just saw two people cross Queen Elsa ... and nothing horrible happened. No blizzards, no beheadings. In fact, Her Majesty _apologized to us_ for the commotion."

"Doesn't anything about today bother you?" Eliasz questioned sharply.

"Well, I have been trying to wrap my mind around how, in a Christian majority country, a person with obviously pagan powers created a Jewish snowman. It's a theological conundrum," Debora razzed.

"Will you be serious?" Eliasz sputtered.

"I am serious. I hope Father Papadopoulos will research it," Debora said primly.

Eliasz exhaled noisily and tried a different approach. "Aren't you worried that Zlata will take to dressing like the Queen?"

"I'm confident that we've raised Zlata well enough for her to make good choices," Debora chided. "For her to see what aspects of Queen Elsa are appropriate for her to take as a model. Her Majesty has been governing Arendelle since she was about as old as Zlata is now, and it looks like she's been doing a fine job, so there are worse examples for Zlata -or any other young adult- to follow."

"So you really want to stay?" Eliasz asked with an air of resignation.

"Yes. Or at least I want to give it longer than three days, one of which was spent getting bundled off the ship and unpacked. Why are you so convinced we should leave already?" Debora inquired.

"I'm only trying to protect us. Dunderheaded politicians, an impulsive princess, and an incredibly powerful magical queen seems like a disaster waiting to happen," Eliasz maintained. "You saw that little display of destruction by the waterfront today. You know enough about physics and engineering to understand just how powerful Queen Elsa is."

Debora reflected for a few moments. "I also know enough about human nature to understand just how powerful Queen Elsa is. Think about how she dealt with those two attempts on her life during the Eternal Winter, by that young Prince and that Duke and his bodyguards. She let them go. She could have killed them, especially the Prince, and most people wouldn't have found fault with her. But instead she simply sent them back to their own countries. No declaration of war, no demands for reparations. That's how powerful Queen Elsa is."

Eliasz rolled onto his side and looked at his wife with concern. "Debora, my love, I think you're drunk."

"Hardly, Eliasz. Power is when we have every good reason to kill, and we still don't," Debora said gravely. "That kind of self-control and virtue is real power, stronger than anything her magic did to the steel and concrete today."

"Is that a fancy way of saying you like her?" Eliasz probed.

"I don't know her well enough yet to like her - but I certainly _trust_ her. If she wanted to be a tyrant, she would have done it by now," Debora reasoned.

"At the table discussion this morning, Homberg asked her why she hadn't taken over the world. She said there was nothing to be gained that wasn't easier to get and keep by peaceful means," Eliasz told her.

"See, then? Her Majesty has a good head on her shoulders. So far, she's living up to her reputation: She thinks things through; she's fair and consistent and honest. Just like a certain fellow I know," Debora said, and stroked her husband's grey hair; she felt his tension diminish. "She also gives you a run for the money in the awkward joke contest."

"Thanks a bunch, Mrs. Mandelbaum," Eliasz said with feigned sarcasm as he cuddled up against her. "To think that I married you because you help me with my people skills."

"You married me for my smooth moves on the dance floor," Debora amended. "Not that we've done much dancing lately. This Harvest Festival sounds very appealing. Princess Anna mentioned that there will be a big celebration in the courtyard for everybody while the formal ball is held on Saturday night."

"You just want to stay here for the parties," Eliasz laughed.

"Guilty as charged," Debora played along. "We came to Arendelle as much for my business and the lively social scene as for Zlata's education and your career."

"Something for the whole family," Eliasz commented wryly, and blinked sleepily.

"If Jakub could move here too, I would be a very contented mother," Debora sighed.

"One step at a time, my love. Let's get settled in first before we try convincing the newlyweds to relocate," Eliasz counseled and gently laced his fingers through hers.

"Now you talk like your usual sensible self," Debora said and stifled a yawn. "I knew you still had it in you."

"We should get some rest," Eliasz advised. "We're no longer spring chickens. I can't remember the last time we had a snowball fight."

"You had fun, didn't you, Professor?" Debora prodded affectionately.

"Yes," Eliasz owned up after a few seconds. "I felt like a kid again."

"Queen Elsa really is a miracle worker," Debora joshed as she capitulated to her heavy eyelids.

"Please don't act like a kid tomorrow during the castle tour - or when it ends," Eliasz drowsily jibed back and nestled his head close to hers.

"Promised," Debora whispered, and they surrendered to the tug of sleep.

[][][][][] [][][][][] [][][][][]

"Oh, why can't these clouds cooperate for more than three minutes?" Friedrich Homberg groaned as his latest celestial target was shrouded from view.

"Quit your bellyaching, mister," Father Papadopoulos recommended good-humoredly. "There's no use in railing against nature."

" _You_ should know that better than any of us," Sinibaldo chimed in. He had set up his own telescope and had joined the Prussian naturalist and Newark in scanning the sky after the Scurrs, the Mandelbaums, and Duffin had left.

"Even though we're looking through devices made by someone who has at least some portion of nature at her very beck and call," Newark uttered with a smirk.

"Touché, sir," Papadopoulos grinned.

"I hope the conditions are better when I get a night at the big observatory," Homberg said.

"I'm sure Her Majesty will let you reschedule if there's bad weather," the priest reassured him. "She seems very mindful of other people's needs."

"Yes, Queen Elsa seems to understand and value scientific endeavors. I don't see her saying 'Tough luck,' if your turn is a wash out," concurred Sinibaldo.

"But you may have to wait for another opening because there _are_ other people in line," Newark added. "Although apparently the Snow Queen can summon her own squalls to contest with the prevailing winds and create a clear window, even though she is usually extremely loath to do so. Something about not wanting to meddle too much with nature or do anything that might be construed as an act of war, like blowing a storm into another country."

"Not quite the stereotypical concerns of a young queen," Papadopoulos contemplated. "All that power at her beck and call, and a level head to go with it."

"Thank goodness. Especially for that young man who had a little too much to drink," Homberg put in. "She never lost her self-control tonight."

"Except for the little wardrobe malfunction with her cape," Sinibaldo said mischievously. "But otherwise, I didn't detect the slightest chill or see any snow or ice."

"Her Majesty was obviously _expecting_ trouble. You saw how she was keeping an eye on the Frenchmen and mustered the troops around the Princess _before_ Monsieur d'Ambly hurled his invective," Newark analyzed. "She very nearly had everything subtly maneuvered into a harmless impasse - until Her Highness tripped it up."

"Ugh, I'm allergic to politics," Homberg grimaced.

"I'm not," Newark asserted with a wink. "I must say it was quite entertaining to watch an expert working at her craft tonight. Queen Elsa has clearly been well taught in more than just mathematics."

"Yes. Thus far, I haven't seen any signs of her being 'like a babe lost in the woods,' with anything," Sinibaldo said.

"Except making jokes and puns," Homberg chortled. "Hers are so bad that it's almost funny."

"Nobody's perfect," Papadopoulos upheld with a smile.

"Is that a fancy way of saying you like her?" Newark asked with a measured glance.

"I believe so," the priest granted.

"That's not saying very much; you like everyone," Homberg said kindly.

"Thanks a bunch," Papadopoulos acknowledged genially. "But at the present I do believe Queen Elsa is something special. That her magical powers are perhaps only the ... tip of the iceberg."

Homberg, Sinibaldo, and Newark rolled their eyes in unison.

"It's contagious," Sinibaldo muttered lightheartedly.

Newark choked back a laugh. "Well, gentlemen, since the clouds are unaccommodating, I'm heading back to my inn. It's been quite a day, and that castle tour tomorrow sounds intriguing. I'd like to see what other attractions besides fine art and flush toilets lie within." The Myrcian began to disassemble his telescope.

"A prudent suggestion," Homberg said, and he and Sinibaldo followed suit.

When they had all gathered their souvenirs from dinner, they nodded amicably to each other and went their various ways to their lodgings.

Upon entering his rented room, Newark carefully placed the box and the tripod on the table and fished out the microscope. He briefly fiddled with the dials and switches, and jumped back in surprise when turning one of the controls produced a bright, white-blue light underneath the specimen stage. He laughed with delight. "A king's ransom," Newark repeated.

He dug out the canister containing the snowball fight substance, carried it over to a window, set it on the sill, and looked out at the sleeping port town.

"A king's ransom. Elsa of Arendelle, you are magnificent," Newark said to himself, as he opened the canister and ran his fingers through the powdery material, sifting it between his hands as he marveled at its consistency. "You far surpass your reputation. You are beyond anything that I dared to imagine in my greatest fantasies." He closed his hand into a fist, forming the distinctive snow into a firm ball. "And you are going to help me get back what's _mine_."

 **Author's Notes - DUN DUN DUUNNN! The music stings! Hey, it's only taken 100K+ words for one day, and for our first schemer (other than Anna) to be revealed. You probably guessed Prof. Newark was up to something; now you have to find out if you sympathize with his cause and/or how awful what he wants Elsa to do to accomplish it will be.**

 **The Mandelbaums are referring to the November Uprising of Poland against the Russian Empire and its aftermath (the University of Warsaw was shut down for a couple of decades). Their discourse about "power" is a shout-out to "Schindler's List." My view of why Elsa simply sends Hans and the Duke back to their respective countries is that she really has learned her lesson about what power is. She's not Incorruptible Pure Pureness. She very much would have killed the Duke's mooks, even though she had them neutralized, even though she could have found a non-lethal method to evict them from her premises. She** ** _knows_** **she has the you-can't-say-that-in-a-Disney-film-mate power to kill, the power to kill arbitrarily. But instead she more or less pardons them (give or take a trade embargo). Elsa the Good.**

 **There will be a few Disney theme park jokes working their way in, so be prepared.**

 **Up next is "Tuesday," which will feature: [Totally Honest Trailer Narrator Voice]talking, conversing, chatting, speaking, and discussing.[/Totally Honest Trailer Narrator Voice] Elsa has her interview with Duffin, a lecture for Kai and the kitchen/serving staff, a warning for the diplomats (yeah, baby!), a chat with Kristoff, and another sisterly dialogue. Anna, meanwhile, crashes the castle tour. Because stuff has to happen.**


	34. Chapter 34

34\. The Breakfast of Champions

Elsa of Arendelle stretched and yawned in the dimness of her bedroom. The clock on the wall read twenty-five minutes after five. There was no point in dozing back off until Kai knocked. She may as well make herself presentable, eat some breakfast, and get an early start on her queenly duties.

At the thought of breakfast, her stomach growled. Truth be told, the previous night's meal had been slightly insufficient due to the ludicrously thin shaving of cake. Even though she had a larger lunch than was her usual, she had still been counting on regular servings of soup, salad, and dessert to balance out dodging the roast beef at dinner.

After the necessary interval in the bathroom, she annihilated the cushion of snow she had made for her feet, and deftly straightened the bedcovers. Growing up, Elsa never had a genuine lady's maid, and had done most of the cleaning and tidying around her suite herself. The housekeeping staff was even now under strict orders not to enter her quarters unless she requested it. It baffled many people, but she still needed places that were hers and _hers_ _alone_ , almost more than before.

A swift wave of her hand converted her nightgown into a daytime dress and shoes; she opted to forgo the cape for the time being, since breakfast was hardly a ceremonial affair. Another sweep of her hand frosted her loose locks of hair back into the windblown look that she favored. Her stomach gurgled again as she applied a light touch of makeup. "I hear ya," Elsa told it. "I'm working on it." She briefly glanced in the mirror, and was out the door and on her way to the royal family's private dining room.

Kai and some of the other staff were setting out the flatware and placing a floral centerpiece on the table when she entered. "Good morning, Queen Elsa," the overseer greeted her, and pulled out her chair. The two maids curtsied.

"Good morning, Kai, ladies," Elsa addressed them, and sat down - and her stomach chose that moment to rumble imperiously once more. "I know I'm a little ahead of schedule, but I need to insert some items that came up last night into today's agenda."

Elsa's tone was pleasantly casual, but the maids paused for a split second, and Kai stiffened. "Very good, Your Majesty," the major domo recovered evenly. "Your breakfast will be out shortly." The maids hurried into the kitchen. They had obviously already heard about the events at the state dinner and reception.

"I'd like to do some work on the coal negotiations before my interview with Miss Duffin. Please have the files ready for me as soon as I finish breakfast," Elsa instructed.

"Right away, ma'am," Kai said.

"And at least one of those crickets was definitely _inside_ the castle. Please have a maintenance crew start looking for breaches in the windows, exterior doors, and outer walls," Elsa charged.

"Certainly, Your Majesty," Kai followed.

"And after my lunch, please arrange for the kitchen and serving staff to meet with me. Especially Antonia, Balász, Beate, Ulrikke, Fredrik, and Valdemar. Send someone to fetch them if they just so happen to be 'out sick' today," Elsa directed calmly. "Make sure you attend and have a little time for a one-on-one chat."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Kai complied with a slight cringe.

"Oh, it won't be _that_ bad," Elsa promised. "But we need to sort out a few things."

"By all means, Your Majesty," Kai responded humbly.

"I also have a feeling that I will take a late afternoon tea at one of the embassies. Courtesy dictates that I should bring a token of esteem for my hosts. Please give one of the guards some spending money before we disembark, so we can pick up a gift on the way over," Elsa commanded serenely, and examined the fingernails on her left hand.

"As you wish, ma'am," Kai said with a smidgen of trepidation.

He was about to add a few words of caution when the other member of Arendelle's royal family stepped into the dining room. Princess Anna was still in her nightgown and robe and her hair was a jumble, although she looked surprisingly wide awake.

"Well, you're up early," Elsa said playfully.

"Oh, believe me, I'd rather be sleeping, but something just crawled across my face," Anna informed them as she plopped down in the chair next to Elsa, and rested her elbows on the table. "Having a big spider or a newt run down your forehead and over your nose and cheek will sure get you out of bed."

"It was probably a just cricket, but in case it wasn't, finding that gap is a top priority, Kai," Elsa urged. "Put as many people on it as you can spare, please."

"Understood, my Queen," Kai said with a slight bow and left to begin the day's preparations just as Elsa's breakfast was carried in by the maids.

They removed the covers from the trays to reveal: a three-egg omelet with leeks and asparagus; chocolate oatmeal generously topped with slivered almonds and sliced strawberries, fresh from the Snow Queen's magical preserve; and a huge tankard -almost more like a spoutless glazed earthenware pitcher than anything else- of hot cocoa with a small bottle of extra milk on the side. "Thank you," Elsa said to the women.

"Whoa! I'll have what she's having!" Anna blurted out. "Except I want ham, peppers, onions, and cheese in my omelet. And if we have any potatoes left from yesterday, I'd love some home fries. And two pieces of toast, with marmalade. Please."

"Which one of your legs is hollow?" Elsa deadpanned.

"Both of them," Anna answered without hesitation.

"A matching set - to go with your head," Elsa ribbed with a fond smile.

The maids suppressed giggles as they retreated back into the kitchen to convey the Princess' wishes, while Anna stuck out her tongue at her sister, grabbed a spoon, and filched a scoop of Elsa's oatmeal in retaliation.

"Mmmm, dism ism smooo gmoot!" Anna mispronounced with her mouth full.

"Hey! Wait for your own!" Elsa laughed, and protectively picked up the bowl and put it down on the far side from Anna. "Especially if you're oh-so worried that I'm not eating enough." She took a dollop herself and nodded in approval.

"Really, Elsa, since when do they put chocolate in oatmeal?" Anna inquired archly as she watched her sister eat the porridge at an unexpected pace.

"I didn't ask for it ... but I guess since ... the breakfast cooks ... found out ... I didn't get my ... recommended daily allowance ... of chocolate yesterday," Elsa slowly quipped between bites. Anna winced bashfully. "Besides ... you have ... no compunctions ... about eating ... pancakes or crêpes ... with chocolate sauce."

"Yeah, but pancakes and crêpes are _supposed_ to be served with a sweet sauce, while oatmeal is supposed to be dull and healthy," Anna lectured breezily. Elsa scraped the last bit out of the bowl, and then downed half of the tankard of cocoa in one toss as the maids brought in Anna's meal. They all stared with awe at the impressive feat of imbibing. "Wow!"

Elsa wiped her mouth with her napkin with incongruous decorum and sized up her omelet. The maids removed the covers from the Princess' scrumptious spread; everything -the omelet, the oatmeal, the home fries, the toast- looked and smelled perfect. The only shortcoming was that the cocoa was served in a normal mug and not a capacious stein. "Thank you," Anna said to the maids. They bobbed their heads politely and withdrew back into the kitchen.

Anna tackled her oatmeal and looked on as her sister devoured her omelet with brio. "A little bit hungry, Your Majesty?" Anna poked.

"You should eat your food before it gets cold, Princess," Elsa said with impish menace. She finished the last morsel of her omelet, and reached for her drink. Anna gazed in wonderment while Elsa chugged the remainder of the cocoa, then demurely dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "Anyway, Your Highness may have noticed that I had a light supper last night."

"Well, maybe if you had eaten your main course..." Anna proposed with mild sarcasm.

"I don't like roast beef, especially not when it's carved thick," Elsa said matter-of-factly.

"Why not? It's so tasty and juicy and-" Anna began.

"I just don't," Elsa interrupted with surprising intensity. Anna flinched somewhat at the Queen's vehemence.

"Sorry," the sisters apologized simultaneously.

"Sorry," Elsa repeated contritely, gripping tightly on her magic. "It's just ... I mean ... Foods like that can be ... hard to eat when they're frozen." Elsa kept her eyes focused on her empty plate.

" _Elsa, why did you skip today's less- Why is it so cold in here?" Agnarr demanded as he shut the Crown Princess' bedroom door behind him._

 _"I'm sorry, I can't help it. I'm hungry," Elsa explained diffidently._

 _"That's really what I came here to talk to you about. Gerda says your food has gone untouched since yesterday's lunch. If you're hungry, why haven't you eaten?" Agnarr posed with concern._

 _"It freezes every time I try to," Elsa said softly and looked at the floor._

 _"Through the utensils?" Agnarr asked, valiantly refusing to shiver in the presence of his magical twelve-year-old daughter. His breath showed in the chilly atmosphere of the room._

 _"Yes, sir," Elsa said, resolutely refusing to tremble in the presence of her father the King. Her breath never made puffs of mist, no matter how cold she made her surroundings._

" _And you were wearing gloves?" Agnarr checked._

 _"Yes, sir," Elsa said contritely and kept her eyes focused on the purple rug._

"Okay, it's all right," Anna consoled her, sensing that Elsa was somewhere -or somewhen- else in her mind, and realizing that dredging up unhappy reminders of how difficult it used to be to control the magic was a worse way to start a day than having some creepy-crawly tickle one's brow. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Elsa looked up from the plate and resolutely met Anna's eyes, focusing on the present. "Yeah, but I _owe_ you explanations," she stressed. "I have a lot of silence to make up for. But I guess sometimes I forget that I can tell you about ... stuff. That I don't have to keep it all to myself anymore. It's another bad habit."

"I understand," Anna reassured her. "And I'm sorry for ... pushing you. We don't have to talk about ... stuff over breakfast. Mainly because I'm not exactly a morning person. And I should know by now that you're not exactly random about what you do. _I_ have to remember that you weren't so closed off because you are arrogant or have weird phobias, that you never had a thing about dirt."

"Actually, I do have a thing about dirt. It's fine outside, but it doesn't belong inside," Elsa declared lightheartedly, regaining her good humor.

"I suppose that means you're going to veto the mud-wrestling segment that I'm planning for the Harvest Festival ball," Anna bantered, delighted to see Elsa's spirits bounce back quickly.

"I've _told_ you that I want only good, clean fun at our soirées," Elsa said with mock seriousness.

Anna groaned and cradled her head on the table. "It is entirely too early for your type of humor, sis."

"Don't worry, I gotta get going. I need to do some commodities trading," Elsa said and stood up.

Anna raised her head and smiled. "Go get 'em, champ," Anna cheered.

Elsa leaned over her sister with the intention of kissing the top of Anna's head, but the unruly halo of hair thwarted her attempts to get close to anything solid. Instead, she gave Anna's shoulders a hug. Anna sighed contently - which quickly shifted to a gasp of exasperation as Elsa nimbly snatched Anna's mug of cocoa and snapped the beverage back in a single gulp.

"Hey! That was mine!" Anna protested.

"Turnabout is fair play, kiddo," Elsa said smugly on her way out the door. "Don't pout, they can make another one for you. Have fun, and don't forget to drop off those invoices." The Queen exited.

Anna ate a forkful of home fries and shook her head at the natural phenomenon that was her sister. "How does she drink that like and never burp?" the Princess asked the four walls.

 **Author's Notes - If there's one thing I learned from P.G. Wodehouse, it's to put a lizard in it. Need to get a habitual late riser out of bed early? Have a lizard do it.**

 **This is a kind of Mood Whiplash chapter, because Elsa and Anna's relationship is so loving and hopeful and tortured and tragic, and the characters are so funny and angsty and awkward. And because thirteen years doesn't go away in just one - or even two or three.**

 **Elsa's tankard of cocoa should be about the same size as a pitcher of beer. And no, she's never gonna burp in this story.**

 **Elsa's flashbacks are a single narrative, told out of sequence. It's my imagining of what lead up to "Don't touch me! Please. I don't want to hurt you."**


	35. Chapter 35

35\. Myth Busting

Carol Duffin traversed the courtyard of Arendelle's castle, and contemplated the tall double doors that lead to the fulfillment of a lifetime of searching. After all her journeys around the world, braving inhospitable conditions, in her pursuit of real magic, after being called every synonym for "foolish" and "crazy" in multiple languages, she would finally be able to interview someone who still possessed undeniable magic powers.

Speaking with Princess Rapunzel had been an honor, but given the Crown Princess of Corona's upbringing in extreme captivity, the relatively passive nature of her magic, and the apparent loss of her powers when her tresses were shorn off and the last vestige of her magic was expended in her first tear thereafter, there wasn't much new information to be gleaned. And since Princess Rapunzel had covered the remarkable story of escaping from the witch's tower, finding true love, and reuniting with her family in her self-illustrated memoirs, Duffin could not include too many details of the narrative in the planned second volume of "A World History of Real Magic" without running into a plagiarism or copyright infringement issue.

Fortunately, Arendelle's Snow Queen had full command of her powers and no authorial aspirations. It was almost too good to be true.

Duffin reached the doors, took a deep breath, and knocked. And as easy as that, the doors opened. No need for a detour to find a literal key or to solve a puzzle, no battle with a guardian, no trial to prove her worth. She simply handed the sentinel the card that had been in her official visitor's documentation packet, and the man rang a bell and ushered her into the front parlor and motioned for her to have a seat.

"The royal handler will be by soon, ma'am," the sentry said affably. "You're early, but the Queen is usually raring to go in the morning."

"Thank you. I'm sorry I arrived well beforehand, but I didn't know how long the line would be or how long signing in would take," Duffin said with a touch of embarrassment. In the back of her mind, she had been anticipating _some_ kind of obstacle, even a banal one, to pop up at the ultimate stage; it was how these things always worked in the stories. The seeker never attained the goal smoothly.

"Oh, your VIP pass would have let you skip to the front of any line today, ma'am," the sentry grinned. "When Her Majesty is expecting someone, he or she gets top priority."

"I see," Duffin said weakly. She pondered how a traditional knight errant would have felt about a VIP pass to see the Holy Grail.

Another door opened, and the stout chief of the castle's staff entered the parlor. "Ah, Miss Duffin, good morning," Kai welcomed. "If you're all set, I'm quite certain Queen Elsa will see you now."

Duffin nodded mutely, and picked up her satchel. The final hurdle had been cleared. There was no emergency that needed the Queen's immediate attention, nor had the Queen capriciously changed her mind about the private audience. It really was going to be as easy as that.

"How is Her Majesty today?" Duffin asked as Kai conducted her through a few turns in the hallways. The only possible pitfall was that the Queen was in a sour mood from the events of the previous evening.

"She seemed rested and even-tempered. And we made sure to fortify her breakfast with chocolate," Kai said meaningfully. Again, Duffin nodded mutely.

They stopped at a door emblazoned with a large golden crocus - and tended by a tall, earnest-looking guard. But he merely politely inclined his head at them. The overseer nodded back and rapped smartly on the wood. "Enter," the Queen's voice enjoined from within.

The major domo opened the door only wide enough to stick his head through. "Miss Duffin is already here for her nine o'clock meeting, Your Majesty, if you are so disposed."

Elsa did not look up from her desk. "Just one moment, please." She finished writing, put her dip pen down, secured the ink bottle, and moved the paperwork off to the side. She met Kai's eyes and signaled her readiness with a tilt of her head.

Kai fully opened the door and indicated for Duffin to go in. And the historian stepped through the portal and found herself on her own in the same room with the most really magical person in the world. Duffin managed to curtsy.

"Good morning, Miss Duffin. Please have a seat. Would you like anything to eat or drink?" Elsa asked graciously.

"Not right now, Your Majesty," Duffin said as she sat down in a comfortable chair across from the Queen and took a notebook out of her satchel. "I had breakfast at the inn."

"Very well, ma'am. Then let's begin, shall we?" Elsa silently dismissed Kai with a toss of her head.

He shut the door as he left, and Duffin was left to face the problem that, while she had many questions for the Queen, she hadn't hit upon a good _first_ question. She felt like she was in her old schoolroom, taking a test on a subject that she thought she had mastered, only to discover that she had overlooked a few chapters. Suddenly, being an expert in mythology, folklore, and stage magic was woefully inadequate in the presence of this beautiful young woman, scarcely older than a girl, who ruled not just a country, but an aspect of the natural world. The fact that this living proof of real magic was available for consultation by appointment and offered refreshments did nothing to make this encounter less intimidating.

Fortunately for Duffin, Elsa had seen guests metaphorically freeze up before and had developed methods to get a conversation started. The Snow Queen held her hands above the desk's surface and conjured a levitating, spinning ball of glowing snow which she cast up to the study's high ceiling, whereupon it burst into myriad individual snowflakes that gently floated down throughout the room.

Duffin stared at the spectacle, totally enchanted. She held out her hand and caught a snowflake. It was cold to the touch, and didn't melt against the heat of her palm.

"So, Miss Duffin, what do you think of real magic?" Elsa lead off.

"This is amazing!" Duffin gushed, the wonder and adventurousness of childhood rekindled as she gathered falling snowflakes, each one unique. "How can you be so nonchalant about it all?" Now that she had come out with it, it was the obvious thing to ask first.

Elsa gave a sincere chuckle. "I think being born with it helps. It's as familiar and natural for me as breathing ... or thinking. But," Elsa leaned over her desk and stage-whispered, "to be honest, sometimes I get a little giddy about it all, too."

In the Queen's light sprinkling of very faint freckles across her pale cheeks and the diamond-like glint in her sky-blue eyes, Duffin could see a trace of the child who had drawn donkey ears on her own reflection. Duffin smiled and relaxed. "What's your earliest memory of using magic, Your Majesty?"

"It's hard to tell if I truly remember it, or if being told about it from a young age has created the false sense that I do," Elsa stated. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I do. I have a similar problem with the time I excavated a portion of the back garden using a teacup from our good china set," Duffin admitted.

"Looking for something magical?" Elsa asked with light-hearted curiosity.

"Evidently, Your Majesty," Duffin said self-deprecatingly. "I _think_ I remember hunting for a magic ring that might have been buried by the thyme. And I couldn't just use a commonplace trowel to find it."

"Well, I _think_ I remember being excited and laughing and swirling snowflakes around above my bed when I finally somewhat comprehended what my parents meant when they said that I was going to have a little brother or sister," Elsa shared. "My parents were trying to get me to settle down to go to sleep, but they laughed along with me so much that it just turned into playtime. I would have been about a month or so shy of three years old."

Duffin raised a brow and jotted something down in the notebook.

"The earliest one that I can definitely testify to and pin down in time was making ice cubes to supplement the wooden building blocks I received for my third birthday. I guess I've always liked big projects, and I needed more pieces to construct what I wanted, so I just summoned some up," Elsa revealed. "They put a large square of oilskin on the bedroom floor after that, until I was old enough to understand that I needed to clean up before I left the room."

Duffin blinked and scribbled something else down in the notebook. Heeding Minister Nilsson's warnings about what _not_ to ask -at least not too soon- she chose to follow an upbeat course. "Do you remember what you were building, Your Majesty?"

"Arendelle," Elsa said with fondness. "I was making it bigger in a three-year-old's kind of way."

"You always have been a builder," Duffin commented, almost laughing as she repeated Nilsson's characterization of the Queen.

"Building is what leaders do, Miss Duffin," Elsa shrugged.

"Not all of them," Duffin pointed out.

"All right, it's what _good_ leaders do," Elsa allowed with a modest smile. "It's a family custom for each monarch of Arendelle to make some form of public improvement during his or her reign."

"At the rate you're going, Your Majesty, there won't be anything left in Arendelle that could possibly be improved," Duffin praised.

"Far from it, ma'am," Elsa deflected. "Science and technology always march on, and social philosophies always evolve. In fifty years' time, much of what is now state-of-the-art will be obsolete or broken, and what currently seems enlightened will look oppressive, barbaric, or just plain stupid."

"Still, your kingdom will have quite the leg up on everybody else," Duffin maintained.

"Whether that proves to be true is up to everybody else," Elsa said and smiled enigmatically. "What we do here is under intense scrutiny, and the rest of the globe will undoubtedly try to emulate us in certain things, nor would I intervene if some other land manages to copy us. I'm responsible for only Arendelle, and contrary to what some people claim, I try my best not to get too involved in the affairs of foreign countries."

"Your Majesty, would you say that attitude is also a family custom, or specific to the Snow Queen?" Duffin ventured.

"We have a long history of minding our own business, ma'am, and it is strongly impressed upon us to keep it that way, but considering that it's been centuries since Arendelle has had the means to be a major player in international diplomacy, it's mainly just my own policy," Elsa explained.

"So you're not tempted to use your powers to become Earth's mightiest hero?" Duffin queried.

"Ma'am, I'm not some avenger," Elsa clarified dryly.

"But I've heard about your work as a mediator, Your Majesty," Duffin said. "Certainly you-"

"Mediations are always among parties who _all voluntarily_ consent to talk through their dispute with me," Elsa interrupted. "I don't force people to come to the table, Miss Duffin. Or keep them there if they have a change of heart. And we don't always reach an accord. Besides, if I didn't know it before, working as a negotiator has definitely taught me that most of the world's problems can't be solved by dropping a glacier on them. However, glacier-dropping is a useful talent to have to ensure everyone abides by the terms of the agreement."

Duffin gave a sigh of chagrin at her first misstep. "Very true, of course, Your Majesty. That was a dumb and presumptuous question."

"To be honest, I liked it much better than the standard 'Why haven't you taken over the world yet?' " Elsa confessed. "I wasn't one of the heroes of the story, but I _clearly_ wasn't the one with the excessive desire for power, either."

Duffin was taken aback by the turn of the conversation. "But, Your Majesty, you lifted the-" she began.

"Eternal Winter?" Elsa broke in again. "Dispelling a calamity that _I_ created doesn't make me a hero. That was merely a fancier version of putting my ice cubes in the bathtub when I was done playing with them, like a good little girl. If you want to talk to a hero, you'll need to chat with Princess Anna, or Ice Master Bjorgman, or Olaf and Sven. Well, Sven can't chat with you in the strictest sense, but he expresses himself fairly well."

"So you don't count yourself as one of the heroes?" Duffin asked in astonishment.

"Why would I? I spent much of the story performing a lot of the functions that would normally be assigned to the villain," Elsa replied without a hint of rancor. "I was aloof and cold to my extroverted, warm, perfect protagonist little sister for thirteen years. Within a span of about sixty hours after my coronation, I impeded, quote, true love, unquote, between Princess Anna and a young prince who seemed a fitting match for her; I froze my country and left everyone in the lurch; I mortally wounded the protagonist Princess and threw her out into the frigid wilderness; then, for an encore, I did some demolition at two castles, and severely damaged a number of visiting ships. Most proper villains would be rather envious of my accomplishments." Elsa smiled playfully, sat up straight in her chair, raised her head high, and thrust her left shoulder forward in a nobly bold pose.

Duffin was speechless for a minute, trying to determine how serious the Queen was being. "But, Your Majesty, all of that was unintentional," she insisted, although she wasn't sure it was a good idea to bring that up.

"Be that as it may, Miss Duffin, I came closer to causing a miserable ending than most proper villains in legends, contemporary fiction, and real history," Elsa countered. "My intentions wouldn't have mattered one iota if my sister had ended up as an ice statue or the planet had entered a permanent ice age. The world was lucky. The right band of heroes - _and_ the right villain- assembled in precisely the right way at precisely the right time to stop the catastrophe."

Duffin blinked. She had heard reports of Arendelle's monarch's superbly keen mind and ability to dominate in debate, and had seen those traits briefly in action yesterday, but she was unprepared for this, especially so soon in the interview. She couldn't continue with her planned sequence of questions after an allegation like that. Duffin inwardly mocked herself for thinking that she would simply ask a question, and the magical Snow Queen would give a simple answer, and they would move on to the next question. The silence stretched. Elsa waited patiently for Duffin to make the next move.

"I hadn't thought of things that way, Your Majesty," Duffin said at last. "I really don't see you as a villain, nor do most other people. You were misunderstood and caught in a situation beyond your control."

"In hindsight, yes, it's obvious that I wasn't a villain. But with the information available to most people at the time, I was an ambiguous character at best, especially if they used conventional fairy tales as a guide," Elsa asserted. "Not everyone has analyzed and dissected folklore and mythology the way that you and I have. Once people are groomed to expect certain archetypes and plot structures, and there are enough classic elements in the story to convince them that they see established patterns, it's very easy to spring surprises on them."

"I was going to ask you if you ever read fairy tales, or if that was a bit superfluous," Duffin said, the feeling of taking a test returning.

"Not as extensively as you have, Miss Duffin, but the subject was of some interest to me. Whereas you looked for clues that would lead you to real magic, I looked for clues that would lead to control of my magic," Elsa divulged. "I had as much success as you did. Even the two purportedly authentic grimoires of real magic that we obtained are ridiculous. The directions for making talismans to block magic are totally useless. The spells are just cyclic gibberish. Like ' _Eleka nahmen nahmen, ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen, eleka nahmen nahmen, ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen._ ' I didn't even know what I was reading. I'll let you study them, if you want, but there is as much real magic in them as there is in a collection of nursery rhymes. Someone would need to do a lot of mental contortions to believe that nonsense works."

Duffin blinked again. She sensed that she was being goaded to say something, because while the Queen's tone was cordial, many of her words paralleled the terms of derision and scorn Duffin had met with in her quests. The historian realized she was probably being evaluated by some unknown metric for some unknown purpose. This interview was obviously a two-way street, and it was more unnerving than any combat-by-riddles she could dream of.

"There is the possibility that the spells, like a few of the legends, contain some distorted memory of a really magical person, like yourself or Princess Rapunzel, from the distant past. Given enough centuries of oral dissemination and haphazard translations, Princess Rapunzel's song to activate the healing powers of her hair would be corrupted into something unrecognizable," Duffin conjectured.

"I would think that after the first few decades, people would see that the spells didn't work and conclude that they were doing something wrong," Elsa remarked archly.

"There has been the belief -now proven correct, because here you sit, Your Majesty- that only special people could use magic. Or that it took years of special effort and education to acquire and refine the skill, or a special process or object to unlock someone's magical potential," Duffin pronounced. "If the spell didn't work, the failure could be rationalized by saying the practitioners lacked the right qualities or qualifications, but there was always the hope that a breakthrough could happen in the future. I'm sure that you know this, Your Majesty, both as a scholar and as the Snow Queen."

"I do, Miss Duffin, but perhaps because my particular variety of magic is limited and ... quirky, let's just say, I don't understand how people wouldn't take into account that the spells are very likely garbled. Or how they could have been so naïve or arrogant to think that special powers won't come with complications that aren't covered in the lore," Elsa stated. "Especially since the underlying true stories have been altered not just by faulty transmission, but for the sake of entertainment value and educational purposes and to suit religious dogma and social mores."

"Certainly, you understand that the allure of power -both magical and worldly- is very strong for some people, Your Majesty," Duffin said.

"I do, Miss Duffin, but the most important thing about power is knowing how and when _not_ to use it," Elsa avowed. "I know this as a scholar, as a real-life working queen, and as the Snow Queen."

"The world knows how lucky it is that you do, Your Majesty. I was in the Federal Republic of Central America when news of your magic was first spreading, and there was much concern and discussion about what the future would hold. They even put aside their local feuding long enough for me to make rapid progress to the nearest eastern port. But by the time I was ready to set sail, all the talk was about your benevolence, equanimity, and clemency," Duffin recounted.

"I genuinely didn't want to begin my reign and being openly magical with violence, and I knew I was under intense scrutiny, so benevolence, equanimity, and clemency were easy choices, ma'am. Which isn't to say that living on with the consequences of one's deeds can't be a worse fate than a humane execution, but I do not put a premium on killing, in keeping with both my family's custom and my individual preference," Elsa said solemnly. "I wasn't one of the heroes, but it _was_ my lot to decide how many people ultimately died in the story and how bright and happy the ending was. I just wanted to have _some_ contribution that I could be proud of."

Once again, Duffin could only nod mutely. Right now, there was nothing remotely childlike in the Snow Queen's lovely and intelligent face, nothing the least giddy or vulnerable in the star-like sparkle of her sky-blue eyes, only a wisdom that was well beyond her years, seemingly even beyond human, and it gave Duffin neither peace nor rest. "Perhaps you didn't save the day in the usual sense, Your Majesty," she said slowly, "but there can be subtler types of heroism. Sometimes being judicious and merciful are more difficult challenges than defeating the main villain."

"You sound like my sister, Miss Duffin. She's always looking for something encouraging and nice to say," Elsa noted, the unearthliness now gone from her features. Duffin was fascinated by the brief glimpse of the supernatural but at the same time was somewhat relieved that it had passed.

"Staying positive is a prerequisite in my line of research, Your Majesty. Otherwise I would have given up in frustration a long time ago," Duffin acknowledged. "Thus far, it's carried me to a few moments of triumph, your existence being the grandest one of them. I never dreamed I'd be asked to write a second volume; I didn't think I'd ever have enough new original material to write one. But thanks to you, now I will. So there's always hope. Maybe you'll also have chance for a sequel, and you'll get to be the hero in it."

Elsa chuckled. "If I do my job right, Miss Duffin, there won't be a sequel. It will just be one continuous happy ending for everybody. Besides, if I keep my head about me, I'm too powerful to be the hero if you want a compelling conflict. Only the strongest antagonists would have slim odds at best, so there wouldn't be much of a story," she boasted. "For example, if some villain had a magic knickknack, like a ring or bracelet or gauntlet, and there was no way to persuade him not to do something unspeakably horrible with it, I merely need line-of-sight to stop him, and my monoculars and telescopes give me a rather long range of operation. Even if he had some native power without the bauble that made it hard to know the best way to, uh, remove him from the equation, I could use my ice to simply decapitate him _and_ cut off the arm that held the trinket while simultaneously impaling his heart, abdomen, and groin, and _then_ drop a glacier on him, just for good measure. If I had something witty or vengeful to say, I would say it to the chroniclers _after_ I was quite sure the villain was dead."

Duffin stifled a hoot of laughter. "You'd be no fun at all, Your Majesty. You need to learn how to toy with people," she teased.

"I do know how, ma'am, but there's a time and a place for it, and I refuse to put style before safety. So I'd be a terrible proper hero," Elsa said and hung her head in feigned shame.

"We could always embellish the story later on, Your Majesty, to make it a closer contest," Duffin quipped.

Elsa looked up and made eye contact with Duffin. This glance did not have the uncanny profundity of the previous one, but the cool fire of a born queen, who was used to giving orders and being obeyed, blazed through. "Absolutely not," Elsa contended with sudden seriousness. "I know you said it in jest, Miss Duffin, but if you are going to include my story and the findings of various investigations into the properties and extent of my magic in your second volume, it will be as factual and accurate as possible. I have already made it known to your publishers that I will not tolerate embellishments or modifications, especially not to pander to the whims of an audience or the expectations of a genre. I want to be portrayed as who and what I really am. I don't want to be mischaracterized as blameless, or as the villain, or a monster. Or as a hero, especially as a hero who had to fight really hard for the victory over the powers of darkness if all I had to do was snap my fingers. Do you understand, ma'am?"

Duffin nodded again, but this time was able to speak. "I do, and I whole-heartedly concur, Your Majesty. Humanity has already lost enough of its heritage due to all the editing and meddling and carelessness. We will never know just how many magicals there have been, or how they affected history; we will never know how many mythological figures are completely ordinary people whose real exploits would be astounding even without the superimposed fantastic elements. We are culturally poorer for it.

"And we will also never know just how many innocent, completely ordinary, non-magical people have been persecuted, like one of my foremothers, who had to flee her hometown to escape the stigma of the accusation of witchcraft despite being acquitted of the charges brought against her, or put to death due to prejudices and misconceptions about the nature of magic. You have my word that the description will be faithful and truthful, Your Majesty."

Elsa cocked her head and quietly assessed Duffin. "I am sorry to hear about your ancestor, Miss Duffin. Is she the reason you have such an interest in magic?"

"Not directly, Your Majesty. She was my grandmother's grandmother, and undoubtedly she knew some old lore, especially folk remedies like nettle tea and extract of willow, and as per family legend she was a colorful and enthralling storyteller. Whether those stories influenced my grandmother to believe that she actually, genuinely, truly saw a broonie -perhaps you've heard them called brownies, too- one night is uncertain. But at any rate, my grandmother believed that she actually, genuinely, truly saw a broonie one night, and so she was actually, genuinely, truly convinced that magical beings are real," Duffin related.

"And then you took over the mantle," Elsa presumed.

"Well, of course I was intrigued by the possibility that she actually, genuinely, truly saw something that was outside the common ken, Your Majesty," Duffin granted. "But later on, it became something like trying to solve a mystery. I also wanted to discern what truth, if any, lies behind the legends."

"Which would be that they are all basically devised to keep children and the less educated social strata in line or amused, or to give them explanations for things that we don't know the answers to," Elsa threw in.

"Pretty much correct, Your Majesty," Duffin conceded with a smile. "But every once in forever and a day, there's something that can't be dismissed so easily. Like the Dragon's Scale of Hua Shan-"

"That can't really be a dragon's scale," Elsa interjected playfully.

"It's the size of a dinner plate, and is very vivid tangerine in color with carmine and gold showing through underneath in a kind of chatoyancy," Duffin retorted with no animosity.

"It's a heretofore unidentified type of mineral that has been shaped by chance or design into the form of a scale," Elsa posited.

"It's very light, thin, and flexible," Duffin tweaked.

"It's from a heretofore unidentified species of fish," Elsa riposted.

"It was found about one thousand kilometers from the ocean, which would be the only body of water big enough for such a creature," Duffin rejoined.

"Something carried it inland," Elsa countered.

"Perhaps. But there was or is something unidentified with enormous, beautiful scales roaming or swimming around, Your Majesty," Duffin persisted.

"Fair enough, ma'am," Elsa yielded with a smirk.

"Or like the Sasanian Full Moon Stamp Seal," Duffin continued with the examples, and felt comfortable enough to raise a finger to forestall the Queen's tongue-in-cheek attempt to debunk the magical nature of the artifact, "which seems like a normal-enough jasper seal by day and most nights. Only when it's held under the light of the full moon does it glow with an eerie light and some symbol of unknown meaning is visible on its cabochon side.

"And like the Aksumite Antelope Hunt Relief Stele Fragments, which, when brought to within a hand's length of each other, will pull themselves together by some unknown force. They appear to be made from perfectly ordinary granite; they neither attract nor repel other substances; they are unaffected by magnets. The search continues for more pieces of the pillar.

"Or the healing power of Princess Rapunzel's hair. Yes, I know that skeptics will argue that it's all hearsay, that there are no objective eyewitnesses of the Princess' former powers, but the plant that was used to save her mother's life definitely had baffling attributes, and that Gothel woman must have had some reason for abducting and holding the Princess for eighteen years. Neither does the Princess' hair grow anymore," Duffin said.

"I don't doubt my cousin's claims about her healing powers, ma'am," Elsa assured her. "Although it would have been nice to know if her tears were always also able to heal and rejuvenate, because that did seem entirely too convenient of a plot twist."

"It's plausible that her tears and maybe even her blood always were magically potent as long as her hair was uncut, but the kidnapper's understanding of the magic was lacking. And now we and the Princess will never know what she was capable of," Duffin lamented.

"Fortunately," Elsa declared.

Duffin looked perplexed. "How can you say that, Your Majesty?" Duffin probed. "You appreciate your magic."

"I do, Miss Duffin. But my powers are quite different than Princess Rapunzel's seemed to be. Hers were the sort that would tempt people. Someone would have tried to steal her away again. People would fight to either possess her healing powers or destroy them. It would have been a crushing burden for her, eventually. Would she have healed and rejuvenated everyone who asked? How would she decide who was unworthy? What would she do if people were constantly clamoring for her help - and withholding it means they die, but giving it can and _will_ lead to unforeseen ramifications, because the people never age or die as they naturally would? Real magic is a tricky thing," Elsa expounded.

Duffin again fleetingly saw that unfathomable wisdom in the Snow Queen's face, eyes, and smile, and was overtaken by the thought that she did not know enough. "Very true, of course, Your Majesty. That was _another_ dumb and presumptuous question," she said meekly.

"Ma'am, you don't need to be so worried about asking dumb and presumptuous questions," Elsa counseled. "I apologize if my manner sometimes comes across as haughty or lecturing. It's a bad habit. Real magic is more or less uncharted territory, even for those of us with the powers. We're all learning as we go right now. That's why I assented to working with researchers and specialists in various fields: I'm using everyone's expertise to discover what I can do and what I _shouldn't_ do. Many times, I hadn't realized something important until I was prompted by a dumb and presumptuous question."

"I see. I'm sorry if I seem a bit cowed, Your Majesty, but between your magic and how quickly you apprehend the implications or the solutions-" Duffin started to say.

Elsa's laughter cut the historian off. "Ma'am, you _are_ talking to the person who buried her own country under a meter or so of snow, and didn't even notice it. I'm pretty slow on the uptake when it comes to the really major stuff," Elsa owned up. "I've had to say things like, 'Oh, wow, have my sneezes been coming to life all day? Sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention.' Now _that's_ dumb and presumptuous. And downright weird."

Duffin blinked again. "I'm given to understand there were mitigating circumstances, Your Majesty," she defended, although she still wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say. "You had fled far into the mountains for one of them, and were delirious for the other. What I mean is that when I spoke with Princess Rapunzel, she never mentioned any problematic issues with her former powers, but you saw a few right away."

"First, just because she didn't mention it, it doesn't mean she was unaware of it, Miss Duffin. I don't claim to know Princess Rapunzel that well, but I am passably acquainted with Princess Anna and the high-spirited, optimistic heroine archetype. For all their cheerfulness and bravery, there are some topics -usually the ones that are absolutely no fun and don't have good solutions- that they are not well equipped to talk about. They fully understand there are problematic issues that can't be overcome by sheer determination and a catchy song, but they do _not_ like it one bit, and so they try to avoid speaking about it, or even thinking about it, if they can help it," Elsa elucidated. "Second, my cousin didn't have the benefit of the upbringing that she would have had if she had been raised by her parents, raised as a princess and not as a prisoner."

 _"Do you have any idea why this is happening, Elsa?" Agnarr asked, and resisted the instinctive urge to rub his hands together to keep them warm in the chill of the Crown Princess' bedroom._

 _"I think I was so hungry at lunch that I just couldn't hold it back," Elsa said, and resisted the nervous compulsion to wring her untrustworthy hands to keep them from touching anything that was liable to freeze over._

 _"Didn't you get enough to eat for breakfast? Why didn't you say something?" Agnarr interrogated._

 _"I didn't know if it was okay," Elsa replied quietly, eyes downcast. Somehow, she knew that people like her, people whose hands must always be sheathed in gloves and who must keep their literal and figurative distance from others, could not make too many demands. Particularly now that satin and suede were apparently no longer effective barriers - if they had ever truly been._

 _"Elsa, you're a princess, not a prisoner. You can ask for more food, especially if you're still hungry. Do you understand?" Agnarr pressed._

 _She stared at her feet and nodded mutely._

 _"Look me in the eye and use words, Your Highness," Agnarr challenged. "Like a princess, not a prisoner."_

 _Elsa shut her eyes tightly, and swallowed. She took a few deep breaths as she tried to choke back all of her emotions. Finally, she looked at her father's grave but worried face and said, "I understand, sir."_

Duffin observed the Queen close her eyes and shake her head slightly, as though trying to alleviate a mild case of eye strain, but suspected there was more to it than that. However, she was not going to risk being too curious too soon. "Princess Rapunzel made great strides in catching up," Duffin put forward. "She may not have had much insight about magic to offer, but there's nothing wrong with her brain or her heart. She's-" A knock on the study's door halted Duffin's statement.

"If you would please hold that thought, Miss Duffin. This is a snack for you, and probably a memorandum from Minister Rogalund for me," Elsa said.

"By all means, Your Majesty," Duffin complied.

"Come in," Elsa called out.

As predicted, the royal handler and two maids with covered trays entered the office. Kai set up a folding table next to Duffin's chair, upon which the maids efficiently placed a pot of hot tea, a cup, a napkin, utensils, a small pitcher of milk, a bowl of sugar cubes, and a plate of delectable-looking shortbread wedges with a medley of fresh berries and a generous garnish of whipped cream. Duffin looked at the treat with delight. "Thank you," she said to the maids.

Kai passed the Queen an envelope. "It's from Minister Rogalund, Your Majesty," the overseer said, as Elsa opened it and briefly scanned the contents.

"I will have tea at the Visby embassy at four o'clock, Master Kai. Please inform Minister Rogalund, Admiral Sverdrup, Captain Grimsen, and Chief Constable Johanssen that I would like them also in attendance, along with one other guard of Captain Grimsen's choice," Elsa told him. "Please don't forget to give Captain Grimsen some money, so that we can bring a nice bouquet for my hosts."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Kai said.

"Is everything satisfactory, Miss Duffin?" Elsa queried.

"This is more than fine, Your Majesty," Duffin confirmed.

"Thank you, Master Kai, ladies. You may go," Elsa directed.

The employees nodded politely as they left, and Duffin poured herself a cup of tea. "Nothing for you, Your Majesty?" she made sure.

"No, thank you. I expect the kitchen staff to prepare something special for my lunchtime dessert," Elsa forecasted with a sly smile. "And I will _definitely_ have a cup of tea with the ambassadors."

Duffin nodded mutely, and had no doubt that the Snow Queen was just as brilliant at making someone squirm as she was at governing. She took a bite of the shortbread and a sip of tea. It was not _exactly_ like her grandmother's recipe, but it was a very respectable approximation. She speared a strawberry, and dipped it in the whipped cream.

"Before you eat that, Miss Duffin, I should disclose that those berries have been preserved by my magic," Elsa alerted. "I don't think that fact will bother you, but some people have qualms about consuming food that I've used my magic on."

"Has anyone ever had any ill effects?" Duffin asked, and inquisitively regarded the strawberry.

"Not that we know of," Elsa said. "As an experiment, we've been feeding a control group of chickens, ducks, sheep, and goats exclusively magically preserved food for almost year now, and there are no signs of anything amiss or unusual in them or their offspring. You can see them at the magic lab."

Duffin popped the strawberry in her mouth without hesitation. It really was as tasty and juicy as though it were picked at peak ripeness in July. "My compliments to farmers, the chef, and the preserver," she saluted.

"Behold the power of teamwork," Elsa bantered.

Duffin took another bite of shortbread - but then nearly spilled her tea when a series of loud crashes disrupted the calm atmosphere.

 **Author's Notes - To avoid a plagiarism or copyright infringement issue, "Tangled" also belongs to Disney. I have opted to stick with the movie and "Tangled Ever After" (where Rapunzel retains only a slight magical sympathy with the sun) as "canon" and ignore the TV series. I can steal whatever parts of the franchise I wants!**

 **The VIP pass that lets you skip to the front of the line would get big laughs in Orlando and Anaheim. The "Avengers" (also Disney/Marvel) and "Wicked" (music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, book by Winnie Holzman, based on Gregory Maguire's novel) references would, hopefully, get big laughs everywhere. As a teaser, Elsa and a green-skinned witch will cross paths later on in the story and give each other a hard stare.**

 **I feel justified in making Elsa's earliest magical -and possibly mundane- memory something related (ha! ha!) to being a big sister. It seems very in-character for her (see Olaf's initial reaction to the Snowgies in "Frozen Fever"), and it fits in well with the sisters' ages. And it seems like the kind of story their parents would have told them during "family time" before the gates were shut.**

 **Elsa is Dangerously Genre Savvy - but also plagued by being Wrong Genre Savvy. Sure, if you put her in "Infinity War," she would break the story really, really easily, and (minor, very predictable spoiler) she curb-stomps in all of the showdowns in "Force of Nature" that are Marvel-esque. As a teaser, Elsa will eventually smack someone/something with a glacier, and, yeah, mountains are gonna get obliterated. But Elsa isn't really in the MCU; Elsa is in an animated musical. And so, there are plenty of antagonists (not necessarily villains, just as Elsa was antagonistic without being villainous) that she would be very scared to use her magic against (you can already guess one of them). Elsa also knows to qualify her badass boasting with "If I keep my head about me," because her track record of crashing into the Blue Screen Of Death isn't exactly reassuring. But, man, when her operating system is up and running, even if she really doesn't know/control what she's doing, she's so badass that it took all the heroes and the villain** ** _as a villain_** **to stop her. That's some serious power.**

 **"Do not put a premium on killing" is a shout-out to Sun Tzu and "The Art of War." More will follow. Because Elsa is a Badass Bookworm, too.**

 **The bits about the Snow Queen having a lovely and intelligent face, eyes that sparkle like stars but give neither peace nor rest, and a smile that gives one the impression that one does not know enough are direct quotes from Hans Christian Andersen's original "Snow Queen" story. As a teaser, I will point out that there are** ** _two_** **mirrors in the original HCA fairy tale: the devil-troll's mirror of distortion and the Snow Queen's mirror of reason. In the movie, Hans was the metaphorical mirror of distortion, and Elsa was the metaphorical mirror of reason. You will just have to keep tuning in to find out if Elsa ends up made of ice and trying to help cursed children in strange, unearthly ways by the end of "Force of Nature."**

 **I feel justified in characterizing Elsa as being against pandering to the whims of an audience or the expectations of a genre because getting caught up in whims and expectations is why it took 70 years for them to adapt the Snow Queen tale and why it took an eleventh-hour "Eureka!" moment to save it from being a bland movie. Of course, if you suspect Miss D. will eventually struggle with the temptation to somehow or other make the sequel more exciting than Elsa wants it to be, you might be on to something...**


	36. Chapter 36

36\. Fractured Fairy Tales

Duffin steadied her teacup in both hands, the liquid sloshing nearly over the rim as the clattering racket subsided and finally concluded with the sound of several rounded pieces of metal rolling to a stop. The historian's eyes were wide with surprise and alarm. The Queen of Arendelle never so much as twitched, epitomizing cool and calm.

"What ... was ... that?" Duffin dared to ask.

"The suit of armor closest to the spiral staircase being knocked into its companions," Elsa said as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "Someone, probably Princess Anna, scored a triple."

"Does that happen often?" Duffin wondered, trying to match the Queen's composure.

"Not the triple. But the one closest to the staircase should get hazard pay," Elsa said blithely.

"You could move it out of the danger zone, Your Majesty," Duffin said dryly, and took a sip of her tea now that tranquility had returned.

"There's been an intermittent debate about that since at least my great-great-grandfather's time, but it's like our family's version of bowling now, so we always end up leaving it where it is. It would be a shame to deprive the next generations of their fun," Elsa replied airily. "Besides, that's a load-bearing wall behind the armor, so we need something there to buffer it from all the human cannonballs that come down the stairs."

"While we were waiting to be seated last night, Minister Nilsson mentioned the castle has withstood quite a bit of boisterous behavior," Duffin commented between bites and sips. "Which is somewhat surprising for such a highly respected royal dynasty."

"We come by our roughhousing honestly, Miss Duffin. We are nearly purebred Viking stock, after all. Direct descendants of Bjørn the Berserk. Seafaring raiders, bloody pirates," Elsa said, keeping the conversation relatively light while her visitor enjoyed the tea break.

"I did as much research back home on Arendelle's history as I could, Your Majesty. Throughout the Western Isles, your people were among the most dreaded of all the Norse invaders. When one saw your ships' figureheads and sails -with the eagle on them- one gave oneself, or least most of one's portable property, up for lost. I must say that your manners have markedly improved," Duffin ribbed, and raised her cup in a toast.

"It's amazing what a few centuries can do, ma'am. We eventually figured out that if one plunders too thoroughly, prosperity takes a while to grow back, and when it does, it's usually better prepared to defend itself," Elsa noted wryly. "Trading is more effective and lucrative in the long run. Which is why we go a-voyaging now instead of going a-viking."

"Ministers Nilsson, Haugen, and Rogalund also mentioned going a-voyaging yesterday. They indicated that was how your family acquired some of the art collection," Duffin said, and dabbed the last berry in the last of the whipped cream, and washed it down with some tea. She still had more than half a wedge of shortbread to go, and began to understand what Nilsson said about putting on weight from eating at the castle.

"We weren't just mere marauders, Miss Duffin. We were also intrepid explorers, and the urge to see what's out there still exists in varying degrees," Elsa explained. "And we still have keen eyes for objects of value, but we pay for them now instead of pillaging."

Duffin gave up for the time being on the shortbread. "For a family of former freebooters, you are quite liberal with the guests' rations," she quipped as she put her fork down and freshened her tea.

"Oh, we've always been hospitable to guests at our homes, Miss Duffin. Even back when we looted abbeys, sacked market towns, and dragged people off into thralldom, if you had arrived at our halls as a traveler, you would have been given a place by the fire, food and drink, clean clothes, and a bed for the night, and sent off on your way laden with supplies and gifts. Royalty was especially expected to be generous to anyone who showed up, but also farm wives had a tradition of keeping baskets with flatbread and cured meats hanging over their doors, in case company stopped by while they were out working," Elsa narrated. "Some of the households in the backcountry still do it, which is quite nice if you happen to find yourself running away from home deep into the mountains."

Duffin nearly choked on her tea. "Did ... you...?" she half-asked cautiously.

"Not at the time, ma'am, but I certainly would have in due course if things had gone differently. If I hadn't set off the Eternal Winter, I would have become the _nisse_ or _tomte_ -which are our counterparts of your broonies or hobs- of one or two farmsteads or a mining family's cabin, doing some chores while no one is looking in exchange for food," Elsa explained. "Supplemented by whatever I earned from fishing, ice harvesting, and gathering wild mushrooms, wild berries, and wild crocus stigmas for boreal saffron, I would have been nearly self-sufficient. And once I discovered how to use my powers to fell trees and mine, I really could have been in business if I had a middle man who would be equitable with a partner that he never actually saw or spoke with."

Duffin blinked again. "So you had a plan," she murmured.

"A very fragile one. It was a big gamble that hinged on there being a few country folk still open to the possibility that magic is real, and willing to be discreet and unquestioning about how all the oats were harvested in one night or how all the snow was shoveled before dawn and just honor the old traditions by leaving me a bowl of porridge every night - and I would have found a way to communicate that two eggs cooked any style and some seasonal fruit and veggies would also be appreciated. Of course, I hadn't planned on freezing everything within a radius of about fifty or sixty kilometers when I absconded, so it fell apart before it could get to that stage," Elsa sighed.

"How far in advance did you have this mapped out, Your Majesty?" Duffin inquired. She was thrilled that the Queen was being so candid.

"My father had told me that if I ever had to flee, he would have provisions and messages regularly left for me at certain prearranged spots near the North Mountain. Once I ... was on my own, I had to come up with something else because I wasn't sure how ... bad the upheaval would be in the aftermath. I couldn't ask the few people who knew about my magic to continually put themselves at risk to bring food out to me. Plus, there was a chance that they and everyone else associated with the castle might also have to flee. You know how quickly witch hunts can escalate or how long the distrust can linger. So, as it became clear that I couldn't finagle my way out of a public coronation ceremony, I thought maybe I could hide behind a familiar, homey legend, at least until a better long-term strategy presented itself," Elsa disclosed. "The week before the coronation, I even had someone hide a cache of food that keeps well and some skillings in one of the places my father told me about, in hopes that it would tide me over until ... I could work out a new trade deal."

Duffin contemplated that for a few moments. "You were that convinced your magic would be exposed?" she asked, somewhat puzzled.

"I fully expected to give myself away during the coronation ceremony, Miss Duffin," Elsa admitted. "As the monarch, one thing that I am powerless to change is the ritual that formally vests me with my power. It's a matter of first principles. I could not alter the part that required me to touch the holy orb and scepter with my bare, ungloved, exposed hands in front of a church full of local and foreign dignitaries any more than I could demand to be crowned before I was twenty-one years old or delay being crowned until I was old and sick and already on death's doorstep. I practiced, but I iced over the stand-ins for the orb and scepter every time. So it didn't look promising."

"How did you make it through the ceremony?" Duffin asked.

"I almost didn't. I kept telling myself that the gloves were only a psychological aid; that they never were any sort of physical barricade for my magic; that I touched things without freezing them all the time; that I could hold it back without the gloves just as easily; that all I had to do was not feel for the length of time that it took for the Bishop to say twenty-one words. Even then, it took all of my concentration, willpower, and 'magical muscles,' to coin a phrase, and I _still_ frosted the regalia over a little bit. Fortunately, only the Bishop was close enough to see it, and it dissipated quickly in the heat as soon as I put them down," Elsa revealed. "But then I almost gave myself away because I was so relieved and elated that I didn't give myself away, but I clamped down just in time. As the night went on, I thought I would pull off a miracle, but _naturally_ , just as the ball was coming to a close, my sister and I quarreled, and my anger got the better of me."

"And then you immediately headed for the hills. Did it occur to you to wait and see if maybe the people would accept you, Your Majesty?" Duffin posed.

"No, ma'am," Elsa said flatly. "Getting away before _anyone_ got hurt was my only thought. Even if the crowds in the ball room and the courtyard didn't understand the dangers right away, I did. I was panicking, and the people were rapidly coming to comprehend just how dangerous the situation was. Luckily, they were still too shocked to mob me or trample each other, although they did block my intended escape route, so I had to ... improvise."

"If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, did you notice the ice spreading in the fjord or anything odd about the weather as you were running off?" Duffin broached politely.

"I never looked back. Once I reached the far shore, my goal was to get to our backcountry mountains as quickly as possible without being seen, and I knew to use the forest to conceal myself for as much of the way as I could. I saw I was making it snow and creating some ice formations, but I thought it would all melt, just like the frost on the orb and scepter. My sister had commented on how warm it was during the ball, so I assumed nature would take care of it," Elsa stated.

"So you didn't perceive that you overpowered nature?" Duffin questioned.

"No, ma'am. I knew I must have been making it cold in my general vicinity along the way, but I had no idea how cold or how large of an area I was affecting," Elsa maintained. "And then once I climbed above the permanent snow line, I didn't have a basis for comparison anyway, and I couldn't see anything except naturally snow-covered mountains from my location. I just thought that ... I was in my element, that it was safe to finally relax, let my magic loose, and be who I am."

"And then when you found out the extent of your strength, you couldn't simply stop what you were doing?" Duffin queried, careful to keep any tone of accusation out of her voice.

"No, ma'am. As I said, my magic is quirky. The more I am afraid, especially of my magic and what it can or might do, the harder it is for me to control it. The more I view my magic as a curse, or something to be ashamed of, or an encumbrance, the more it acts as such. Needless to say, upon being informed that I had turned summer into winter for at least all of Arendelle by letting my magic loose and being who I am, I wasn't feeling very positive about my magic or myself," Elsa said frankly. "Trying to stifle my emotions wasn't working, either - not that other people were assisting me in that endeavor. And at any rate, I had never been able to completely get rid of the messes I made. I could push snow into a neat pile and slice ice into manageable pieces, but we always had to dispose of it by letting it melt down the drains, or tossing it in the fjord, or just putting it out with the natural snow and ice when there was any."

"Do you think you lacked that ability up to the point of the Great Thaw, Your Majesty, or that you just didn't know you could?" Duffin speculated.

"I think a little bit of both, Miss Duffin. When I was a small child, I probably couldn't unmake anything, just as I probably couldn't -thank goodness- make living snowmen, but somewhere along the line I gained the capability without realizing it," Elsa reasoned.

"So your powers have grown in scope as well as magnitude," Duffin observed.

"Yes, ma'am," Elsa nodded.

"Do you have any idea if they will eventually stop increasing?" the historian asked.

"I don't know anything for sure, Miss Duffin," Elsa fibbed, "but my instinct tells me that it will only grow. And yes, the implications of that are staggering."

Duffin paused. "Have you felt any difference, Your Majesty?"

"Under current conditions, not really. But if I had made it through coronation day without a slip-up, if things had to go back to the way they were when the gates were shut, I don't think it would be sustainable. I can tell that it's harder now to contain my magic by suppressing my emotions," Elsa acknowledged. "Of course, it could just be that it's harder to suppress my emotions, now that I'm 'out and about,' but my instinct also tells me that trying not to feel is not the right way to hold back my magic."

Duffin mulled that over. "Happily, now you don't have to restrain yourself, Your Majesty."

"Well, at least not to the extremes that I did, Miss Duffin," Elsa amended. "I still have to be careful and considerate of everyone else, otherwise your tea would freeze and the fires in the castle's stoves and hearths would falter. If I want my lunch, then I am obligated to keep my side of the bargain, just like the helpful domestic spirits of legend."

"I know you were being facetious about disputing the provenance of the Dragon's Scale, Your Majesty, but do you sincerely believe that some of mythological creatures exist or existed, or at least are founded on something that can't be explained by science and human psychology? Your plan to pass for a _nisse_ has boosted the possibility that my grandmother might have actually, genuinely, truly seen something really magical, even if that particular something was only _pretending_ to be a broonie," Duffin posited.

"It would hypocritical of me to reject the possibility, Miss Duffin. I'm about as far-fetched as a magical being can get, and yet, as you say, here I sit. Princess Rapunzel is also nearly implausible, even by the standards of fairy tales, and yet she's traipsing around. The odds of us being contemporaries should be infinitesimal, and yet it happened. So it's not impossible that there's something else really magical out there. Although I should advise you that it probably does not want to be found. Or that it's something you actually, genuinely, truly _wouldn't_ want to find," Elsa warned. The trolls were likely not the only magical creatures who valued their privacy and autonomy.

"You sound like a few of the guides and local lore masters that I've encountered, Your Majesty," Duffin teased.

"Yes, but we're right. I speak from the firsthand experience of hiding successfully for thirteen years, ma'am. More like twenty-one years, because only very few people ever caught me using magic even before the gates were shut. And it's for the best to obey the Snow Queen's wishes when she demands some solitude," Elsa said matter-of-factly.

"Apropos going undetected for thirteen years behind the closed gates, Your Majesty, what has openly mingling with the world been like for you, if I may be so bold again? As I was saying before the tea break, Princess Rapunzel has learned quickly and adapted quite well to existence outside of a tower - and to the loss of her magic. I think being 'brought down to normal' has made adjusting to day-to-day life easier for her, especially since her power would have caused the problems that you called attention to. But you've had to face the challenge of integrating with your magic intact," Duffin noted.

"To be honest, we're all somewhat figuring it out, but in many aspects, nothing really changed," Elsa told her. "I mean, the people always thought I was strange, and it turns out that they were right, just not in the way they imagined. And on the other side of the equation, I _am_ still the Queen. I don't have to suddenly fit in an average neighborhood social circle. It also helped that I needed to get right back to work, and the people saw me pick up the pieces _and_ pick up where I left off, so they just carried on with their lives, too."

"Are you surprised it's been so easy, Your Majesty?" Duffin asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I anticipated having to abdicate and go into exile someplace very remote and naturally cold year-round, probably to Spitsbergen or maybe even Greenland. My sister spoke up for me, but I didn't see how the people could forgive me for the Eternal Winter so quickly, or have faith in me ever again," Elsa confessed, and shifted in her chair and stared at the desktop. It was the first sign of discomfort that Duffin had seen the Queen exhibit.

"All of the citizens that I've talked with seem to regard you very highly, Your Majesty," Duffin upheld.

"Yes, well, that's because once the majority of the people had endorsed my reign, most of the dissenters chose to emigrate, ma'am, and I banished a handful of people from Arendelle for their actions during the Eternal Winter," Elsa confided. "There are a few who have stayed here but frown on me. However, I view that as high praise, since they trust me enough to be overtly critical of me without being concerned about retribution. If someone as powerful as I am has a one hundred percent approval rating, it's easy to suspect that it stems from fear. And that's not the way I want to rule, even if I'm actually, genuinely, truly _not_ doing anything to force people to pretend that they like me or my magic. I know what it's like to put on a show out of fear, and I can say it wasn't pleasant."

Again, Duffin saw wisdom -this time the "costly wisdom that is bought by experience," as Prof. Newark had quoted- flicker in the Queen's young face and eyes. "Happily, the greater part of the people seem neither to fear you nor abhor you, Your Majesty, judging by yesterday at the waterfront. We all had ... fun, pure and simple fun," Duffin asserted. "Even the stuffy and stilted academic and diplomatic types."

"Fortunately, I have Princess Anna, Olaf, Ice Master Bjorgman, and Sven as my public ambassadors, Miss Duffin. There's no way I could pull it off without them, because there are still occasions, like last year's Yule Bell ceremony, when it's obvious that I'm ... out of touch, even if I'm trying to do something nice. Plus, Minister Haugen's idea to bring in tourists to see my magic has been good for Arendelle's overall economy, as have the opportunities for me to directly use my magic for infrastructure projects. If the people can get tangible benefits from my powers, they are more likely to view it and me favorably, or at least to tolerate the risk that yields the reward. And it helps me feel happier about myself and my magic when I use it constructively, literally and figuratively," Elsa declared.

"Which in turn greatly reduces the risks associated with your magic," Duffin concluded.

"Exactly, Miss Duffin. My magic both creates and is susceptible to getting caught in continuous loops, processes that reinforce themselves. As long as I'm mindful and set things up right, it's relatively easy to stay on one of the good tracks. It's almost like a kind of principle of inertia for magic," Elsa said with faint smile.

Duffin could only shake her head and chuckle in astonishment. "It certainly defies the stereotypical depiction of magic in the lore, Your Majesty. On one hand, you and your magic are so closely connected that your sheer attitude about it affects how it behaves; but on the other, it's as though you're tapping into an external force that perpetuates itself once you've set it in action."

"Clapeyron and Ørsted postulated that my magic works by changing certain physical laws and properties, and that once I've manipulated them they will remain that way unless I explicitly and directly alter them again," Elsa said and shifted in her seat again, fighting against the impulse to stand up and pace.

"Hence your magic theoretically has ontological inertia," Duffin grasped.

"Their hypothesis can't be easily tested," Elsa stressed. "It's also possible that the universe would reset itself once the influence of my magic is ... gone. But since nobody yet knows for sure how my magic does what it does or why I have such powers, right now it's better for me if I use my magic intuitively rather than worrying if I put all the laws of thermodynamics back the way they ought to be after I'm done playing with them." Elsa couldn't resist rubbing the knuckles of her left hand and fidgeting with her feet.

Duffin could tell that this was an edgy subject for the Queen and tried to steer the interview toward a topic that she hoped would be less awkward. "Your Majesty, when you use your magic intuitively, you seem to have no problem returning the laws of thermodynamics to normal. Are they something you 'just know,' in the same fashion that your inner tensometer 'just knew' how much force you were applying to the steel yesterday, or how your magic 'just knows' when there's poison in food? I think Prof. Sinibaldo intends to pick your brain on Thursday at the magic lab."

"Actually, Miss Duffin, I'm not very helpful that way, because I am not bound by many of the rules of nature," Elsa said, and channeled her magic rather than curbing her restive emotions. She turned her right hand palm up and made a lifting motion; the snowflakes that Elsa had created to break the ice at the beginning of the conversation -all them still unmelted- floated up toward the ceiling. "Sometimes, I can give valuable clues by describing what is going on during certain experiments. However, I can absolutely wreck some studies, especially on heat transfer and changes of phase." Elsa closed her hand into a fist, and the individual snowflakes coalesced back into a ball; the Snow Queen then quickly splayed her fingers, and the ball of snow disappeared in a glittering spray of white-blue light. Duffin's stared raptly at the casual display of power. "Besides, 'just knowing' isn't an adequate answer for the scientists; they need to show their work and independently reproduce their results. Which reminds me that I should drop off a proof to Prof. Holmboe that the equation from yesterday meets his criteria. If I were still his student, he would have scolded me for not demonstrating how it satisfies the conditions."

"Since you developed the ability later on, Your Majesty, is annihilating just as easy for you as creating?" Duffin wondered.

"When I am in harmony with myself and my magic, there is no difference. When I am ... having a bad day, it balks until I ... reconcile with it," Elsa said carefully.

"Have you ever had similar difficulties creating anything, Your Majesty?" the historian asked.

"If you mean have my powers ever failed when I want to make snow or ice or drop the temperature, then no, that's never happened, even when I have a bad day. I _always_ get _something_ , although maybe not the specific results that I want. If you mean has there ever been a learning curve for conjuring objects out of snow or ice, then yes," Elsa said. "I do remember needing a few attempts before I managed to make a halfway decent toy ship out of ice. It took a little practice, akin to getting the hang of writing and drawing; instead of guiding a pen with my hand, I was directing my magic with my mind to create things that are more complicated and detailed than snow, ice, and frost or simple geometric forms."

"I assume that there were no 'magic classes,' and you had to master that on your own," Duffin surmised.

"Correct, ma'am. I had neither an innate sense of what not to do nor real teachers, which was obviously less than optimal," Elsa divulged. "Trying to explain to my parents what I was doing and feeling and their assessments and suggestions helped me gain some insight and kept me out of trouble for a while."

"If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, what were some of your parents' early assessments and suggestions?" Duffin put forth.

"While they told me I was very special, they also made it extremely clear to me at quite a young age that I shouldn't use my magic when I was around anyone who didn't already know about it, and that I should always ask for permission to use magic, even if I was solely with people who knew," Elsa recalled. "They felt a policy of supervised use was for the best."

"So they were cautious," Duffin said.

"Of course. I'm sure my parents, especially my father, already imagined ... potentialities that I was too naïve to comprehend. Potentialities -such as my powers might have a dangerous side, and other people might try to harm me because of my powers- that a happy little magical princess living a life of sheltered luxury in a small, peaceful, well-off country wouldn't begin to think about. Until one day I ... became cognizant of those potentialities. And so they shut the gates, and I tried to keep my magic hidden, in order to protect everyone," Elsa justified.

"I see. So you felt the measures were necessary at the time," Duffin reckoned.

"Yes, ma'am. I graphically understood what could happen to me and everyone else, and given the information we had, it seemed to be the safest plan. Believe me, this was not something my father decided on a whim or out of spite," Elsa contended.

"I don't doubt that for one moment, Your Majesty," Duffin assuaged. "It just sounds ... like an incredible burden for an eight-year-old to bear."

"It was an incredible burden for my whole family, Miss Duffin. But that's what it took, and so that's what we did, because we had not just my life and rights to be concerned about, but also those of all the other people in at least Arendelle and possibly much farther afield," Elsa said solemnly. "Since I am the one who is peculiar and dangerous, my needs must give way when a serious conflict of interests arises."

Duffin deliberated for several moments. "Did your parents explain that to you, or is that something else you 'just knew?' "

"That's one part learning from an awful experience, and one part standard 'Queen lessons' here in Arendelle. The king my father used our own example to teach me about the complexities and the sacrifices involved with the concept of 'the greater good.' Even in a small, peaceful, well-off country, there are times when certain segments of the populace need or want mutually exclusive things, or dire emergencies crop up, and then it's once again my lot to decide who gets a happy ending," Elsa pronounced, and Duffin once again saw that mysterious wisdom in her host's eyes. "It's not always as simplistic as saying 'There are more people in Group One than in Group Two, so we'll do what Group One wants.' "

"I guess that's a side of authority that ordinary folks don't tend to think about," Duffin said after a few beats. "And a side of magic that is barely touched on in the lore. Being so powerful at such a young age is not a common feature in the tales, and when it is mentioned, usually the whole race that the precocious child belongs to has special abilities, or there is some mature magic user to help train the child."

"That's because a magical child in a real-life, normal society probably wouldn't survive very long," Elsa reflected. "For all we know, there are dozens, if not hundreds, of babies born with magical powers each year, but they are all killed soon after their births out of fear or because of religious ideology. It is a testament to how loving and accepting my parents were -and to the resources available to them- that I wasn't ... euthanized within my first hour of life or when we became aware that my magic ... has hazardous aspects."

It was Duffin's turn to squirm uncomfortably in her chair. "That sounds like a grim realization for an eight-year-old to have, Your Majesty," she said quietly.

"Oh, that knowledge didn't hit me until I was older, ma'am, and it made me sincerely appreciate everything my parents did for me. Besides, many non-magical children face much grimmer facts of life and grimmer fates, at younger ages," Elsa remarked. "I'm sure you've seen some shocking conditions during your travels, even in wealthy, progressive countries."

"All too true, Your Majesty," Duffin granted. "I must praise Arendelle for being the only port I've ever landed in -and that includes those back home in Lothian- that hasn't had children who clearly either have to fend for themselves or contribute to their family's income trying to part me from my money by some method. I haven't even seen an adult beggar or bumped into a would-be pickpocket."

"Yes, well, if you had been here during peak tourist season, you probably would have encountered a would-be pickpocket, although I must defend my people by saying that almost all of the thieves we caught were tourists themselves or interlopers from neighboring countries who snuck in to take advantage of the sightseers," Elsa smiled. "But we do not allow begging in public; and I do not let the kingdom's children fend for themselves or sacrifice their educations to help put food on their family's table."

Duffin arched a brow. "I take it you have a system that provides for the needs of orphans and the handicapped."

"Correct, ma'am. It helps that we're a small, peaceful, well-off country, with a robust work ethic and an old Viking tradition of fostering children as a way of strengthening social bonds. And for the stubbornly proud holdouts who say they won't take 'charity,' we find jobs that they are capable of doing to earn their keep, as it were. Fortunately, producing boreal saffron still requires a large seasonal workforce and is legitimately lucrative, so I don't need to pad their pay too much," Elsa said with a wily wink and placed an index finger over her lips.

Duffin could discern the merry, gentle prankster lurking behind the regal and dignified Snow Queen and laughed heartily. "Your secret is safe with me, Your Majesty," she pledged.

"Thank you, Miss Duffin. It would never do for the people to see where the sleight of hand comes in," Elsa deadpanned.

"And here I thought you of all people wouldn't resort to parlor tricks," Duffin said with mock disappointment.

"Happy endings entail all kinds of magic, but accounting magic is the most crucial variety. Sorry to say that it is not as entertaining to watch as ice magic," Elsa said and cast a glance at the stack of documents on the desk.

"If I may be so bold, how hard is it to balance being the Queen of Arendelle and the Queen of Ice and Snow?" Duffin asked, remembering Minister Haugen's comment that it could take a month to clear an opening in the monarch's schedule for a trip to the North Mountain and the Ice Palace. Judging from the pile of papers, ledger books, and folios, he wasn't exaggerating.

"It isn't usually a problem. I hope you can understand that I _need_ to use my brain just as I _need_ to use my magic, and as we discussed, I like using my magic for the betterment of Arendelle. It's permitted us do projects -like dredging the fjord and leveling the ground for the university and the embassies- that would have been cost prohibitive if not impossible with existing conventional technology, so I would say that my dual roles make a pretty good team," Elsa laughed. "Sometimes, I could use more hours in the day or more days in the week, but I think most non-royal, non-magical people feel the same way."

Reluctantly, Duffin peeked at the clock and saw that her allotted time was nearly up. "Very much so, Your Majesty. I could definitely use a few more hours right now, but Master Kai will soon shoo me out," she said. "I must thank you for making time for me, Your Majesty. I can see how busy you are."

"You are quite welcome, Miss Duffin. I'm sure you didn't get to ask many of your planned questions and some of my answers undoubtedly call for further inquiry, so perhaps we can continue the conversation as our schedules allow," Elsa proposed. "In our correspondence, I believe you wrote you envisioned staying in Arendelle for at least a month. I am booked solid for the rest of this week, however that includes the magic lab on Thursday. But next week, aside from standard duties, I only have one mediation starting on Monday and an open court session on Thursday. There's no way to know in advance how protracted either of those will be -or if a diplomatic mission from some distant land will unexpectedly pop up- but if you have any leeway I'll try to fit you into the chaos until we can properly arrange additional meetings."

The Queen's offer was more than Duffin had hoped for. "I am extremely grateful, Your Majesty. I will be available whenever you have an opportunity," she guaranteed. "I'll inform the innkeepers about my daily itineraries so that messengers know where to look for me. Now that I'm here, I foresee staying for at least the winter, so my schedule is flexible."

"Then we'll figure something out, ma'am," Elsa said. "We don't get as many visitors during the winter -something to do with the weather, I suppose- although we do have the Yuletide and New Year festivals, and I am slated to travel to one of the neighboring kingdoms once the holidays are over. But there's room for a few chats over a cup of tea in there somewhere."

"That is very generous of you, Your Majesty," Duffin said humbly. There was a sequence of soft taps on the study's door.

"It's just talking, Miss Duffin," Elsa deflected, ignoring the knock.

"You're making my sequel possible, so it's important to me," Duffin said with feigned pique.

"All right, then: You're welcome," Elsa said with smirk. "Come in, Kai."

The royal handler entered and bowed, followed by a maid with an empty tray. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but it's time for the next item on your agenda, unless there has been a change of plans," Kai said politely.

"Thank you, Kai; I will keep to today's schedule, but I have invited Miss Duffin back later next week to resume the interview. Also, Miss Duffin may borrow 'The Grimmerie' and 'The Necronomicon' for examination and giggles, if she so desires," Elsa directed.

"Very good, Your Majesty," Kai said.

Duffin packed up her notebook, somewhat chagrined that she had copied down only two things. She resolved to write out as much of the dialogue as she could remember, as soon as possible. The maid reached to collect the tea break appurtenances, but hesitated when she saw the shortbread remaining on the plate.

"Would you like to take that home with you, Miss Duffin?" the maid asked.

"Yes, please," Duffin replied. "Now that you mention it, it would make for a nice snack this evening."

The maid set the plate on the desk, and Duffin watched in fascination as the Snow Queen held her right hand over it, fingers spread out and curving slightly toward the target, and stared intensely at the shortbread. She then gestured as though subtly beckoning for someone's attention, and a square of ice-fabric formed between the baked good and the plate. The maid tied the corners up into a neat bundle, and handed the treat to the historian.

"Wouldn't want it to get stale," Elsa said simply. "Oh, and by the way, I don't know if you read about all the privileges that come with your VIP pass, but it includes a tour of the castle; the next showing starts at one o'clock. And lunch in the main dining hall, which is served between around about now and two o'clock. What's on the menu today, Kai?"

"Rotisserie chicken, noodles dressed with a lemon and butter sauce, and sautéed chard, ma'am," Kai responded respectfully; the kitchen staff had unsurprisingly selected a few of their employer's favorite recipes.

"More food?" Duffin asked weakly. She stole a look at the overseer's portly figure and appreciated what the man was up against.

"Vikings have hearty appetites, ma'am. Can't do all that rowing and ransacking on empty stomachs. Give it an hour and a half or so and you might be ready for another bite to eat," Elsa chuckled. "I believe the Khentiians will be eating at our table today, so you'll have interesting company. But if you have ever trespassed in the Great Taboo in your search for real magic, I recommend keeping that to yourself until they have departed from Arendelle. Good day, Miss Duffin."

Duffin nodded mutely, stood up, and curtsied again. The Queen nodded graciously, and the major domo ushered the guest out of the study.

"The library is this way, if you would like to see the books now, ma'am," Kai said.

"That would be fine, sir, although I am more interested in a place to write down the details of the interview while they are still fresh in my mind. I completely botched recording the conversation about five minutes into it," Duffin admitted as she followed him.

"It's a common occurrence when talking with Queen Elsa, ma'am," Kai consoled her. "The library is just the place for your task."

They rounded a corner and climbed a flight of stairs. Kai produced a key, opened a set of double doors, and escorted Duffin into the library. She put her satchel on a sofa and gazed around the room. The chief of staff fetched a step ladder from a corner, and climbed it to retrieve two very old-looking tomes: the leather covers were cracked and peeling, and the spines were broken. The one entitled "The Necronomicon" had a metal latch on its boards, presumably for a padlock, and a metal ring, presumably for a chain.

"Please be careful with them, ma'am," Kai cautioned. "They might not hold any magical secrets, but they _are_ antiques." Duffin nodded mutely again. "When you are ready for lunch, just go down the stairs, turn left, and proceed along the corridor; you will encounter a guard who will conduct you to the dining room when you present your VIP pass."

"Thank you, sir," Duffin said, and took a deep breath. The royal handler smiled and left her to contemplate the morning's events. The best-selling author disregarded the clichéd grimoires, sat down on the sofa, and began to write about _real magic._

 **Author's Notes - Arendelle's Viking history, and "boreal saffron" and why the crocus is the royal emblem and why the country seems so prosperous will be addressed during the castle tour (up next).**

 **Viking-era hospitality really did include hanging a basket with bread, meat, butter, etc. over the door. Present-day real-life Telemark and inland Aust-Agder are apparently on the culturally conservative side, but many of the customs and styles of dress preserved there would date roughly from the time "Frozen" takes place. So in order to keep the rural folk's traditionalist character for this story, I opted for them to hang on to a few Viking-era practices. Yeah, I know there are a lot of centuries between the 1800s and the 1000s, but let's face it, Renaissance-era Scandinavia isn't as well-known and probably not as cool as "the fury of the Northmen" era.**

 **The legendary nisse, tomte, brownie/broonie, and hob are well-explained in Wikipedia. My "head canon" for why Elsa is dancing around and creating a palace made of ice after fleeing civilization and easy access to food instead of having her own "Oooh, what am I gonna do?!" moment is that she had a plan. She had obviously been practicing holding the orb and scepter before the cornonation, and seemed to realize that disaster was in the cards. So she had some food and money stashed in the mountains to get her by until she could find work. By the way, I also have an outline for a story in which Elsa does ice over the orb and scepter at the ceremony before the Bishop can pronounce her the Queen and runs off, but** ** _doesn't_** **set off an Eternal Winter. She tries out life as a nisse on farm, and the "business partner" for her ice harvesting, timber, and ore enterprises would be Kristoff, of course. Chaos, pathos, and hijinks ensue as all sorts of people are hunting for Elsa for all sorts of reasons; Anna doesn't know how to run the kingdom; Hans is trying to get his filthy hands on the crown; everybody suspects the Snow Queen is behind Kristoff's newly-acquired success, and he is torn between keeping the money rolling in and returning Elsa to her "rightful" place; Elsa is too afraid of having to go back in "the cage" or hurting someone to talk to or listen to anyone; and there's a real nisse, along with the trolls, watching everything unfold.**

 **As a teaser, when Elsa and Co. travel to Thelir, they will encounter a small grave and story of quiet heartache that spurs Elsa to make a fateful proclamation.**

 **"The Grimmerie" belongs to the "Wicked"-verse. "The Necronomicon" belongs to H.P. Lovecraft (with further appropriations by other writers in eldritch horror genre), but I imagine this one to be much more like the so-called "Simon Necronomicon."**

 **On deck is the castle tour with the rest of the researchers. Anna gets a solo ("Clumsy Girl" in the style of Garbage's "Stupid Girl"). Olaf hunts for the elusive lizard.**


	37. Chapter 37

37\. Magical Mystery Tour

"Not so fast, children," Irene Scurr demanded as Adam and Beatrice skipped excitedly in front of their parents, their exuberance unhampered by the overcast, windy morning. They were nearing the waterfront plaza that adjoined the causeway leading to Arendelle's castle. "You need to mind where you're going. Other people aren't expecting you to come charging around the corner." The children slowed as their mother bade them, but it seemed to almost pain them to do it.

"And there's no point in arriving too soon," John added. "The tour starts at ten, _not_ when _we_ get there."

"Do you think we'll get to see Olaf?" Adam asked, doing his best to keep his speed in check they approahched the causeway.

"I honestly don't know," John said.

"Do you think we'll get to see Princess Anna or Snow Queen Elsa?" Beatrice asked. During the family's breakfast, her parents had explained to her what Princess Anna had done with the Queen's cake at yesterday's dinner, and while she had to agree that the Princess was in the wrong but the misdeed was relatively minor, she would still feel less worried about the Princess' future if she knew what the punishment was.

"I doubt we'll see the Queen, my dear. She's meeting with Miss Duffin this morning to talk about magic. And yesterday, the Princess implied that she isn't exactly an early riser, so Her Highness may be at breakfast while we're looking around," John told her.

"Will you get to talk with Snow Queen Elsa about magic, papa?" Beatrice queried.

"Yes, on Thursday at the magic lab," John replied. "We'll be studying Her Majesty's powers and using them to investigate the laws of nature and properties of substances."

"Can we come, too?" Adam asked hopefully. He was having a hard time restraining himself now that they were on the causeway. The flat bridge invited sprinting.

"I would have to ask the other participants what they think," John hedged. "This is serious research, not entertainment. It might be a bit boring for you."

"How could magic ever be boring?" Adam laughed.

"When there are various boring grown-ups asking the Queen to cool down various liquid solutions or samples of hot metal alloys at various rates or taking her body temperature while she creates and annihilates various amounts of snow," John illustrated patiently. "Sometimes science doesn't exactly get your heart racing, but we won't learn much that's new by playing on slides and swings."

"Oh," Adam said, somewhat crestfallen.

"Which isn't to say that science can't be fun and fascinating, especially when magic gets thrown into the mix," John encouraged. "Queen Elsa's special abilities allow for all sorts interesting experiments that currently can't be performed without her help."

"We'd be quiet and stay out of the way. We could bring a few books and read during the boring parts," Adam proposed. The courtyard's outer gates were a few strides ahead.

"Yes, you could, but I still need to ask my fellow researchers how they feel about having children in attendance," John said firmly.

"And ask the mother how she feels about having her offspring around potentially dangerous experiments," Irene chipped in.

"Yes, that too, of course," John readily concurred, glad for the reinforcement.

Adam didn't press the issue further, mainly because he knew it was useless when his parents presented a united front, but also partially because they had reached the gate to the courtyard. Now was the time to be on his best behavior.

The guard smiled at them. "Going to the castle tour?" he asked amiably.

"Yes, sir," Irene said.

The guard pointed to the line of people in front of one of the castle's entrances. "You buy your tickets over there. Two skillings for adults, one skilling for children," he informed them.

John consulted Irene. "How are the funds holding up, O keeper of the purse strings?"

"Just fine. We should also have enough for a lunch at a restaurant," Irene assessed, "provided we don't succumb to the lure of souvenirs, if any are for sale." They strolled over to the line.

"All right, Beatrice, Adam, keep that in mind before you ask for any knickknacks," John spelled it out for the children, and gave his wife an appreciative smile for that bit of tactical planning. The boy and girl nodded eagerly.

Ahead of them were a dozen or so tourists, all of them shuffling forward as tickets were purchased and people were admitted to the castle. While they were waiting, they noticed what looked like a maintenance crew poring over the castle's foundation and the lowest tier of windows.

"I guess there's a fair amount of upkeep involved with a centuries-old building perched on a pile of boulders in tidal water," Irene said.

"Fancy meeting you here," came Prof. Sinibaldo's voice from behind them. He was accompanied by Prof. Newark.

"We've come to see how the other half lives. It's amazing how some people can endure such appalling conditions," John joked.

"Yes, no wonder they're asking for a charitable contribution," Newark wisecracked, jingling his skilling coins in his hand.

"Here come some more donors," Sinibaldo observed dryly as Father Papadopoulos and Mr. Homberg ambled toward the line.

"Good morning, everybody," the priest said brightly. Homberg looked decidedly groggy and merely waved a greeting.

"Let me guess: You stayed up most of the night looking through the telescope, waiting for breaks in the clouds," John surmised with a grin as they all took a few steps forward.

"Oh, no. I stayed up most of the night looking through the microscope," Homberg corrected. "It does indeed match the telescope's quality, possibly even exceeds it. I _definitely_ need to get Queen Elsa a card of thanks. Those optics are beyond price."

"Yes, all of us made out like bandits last night," Newark remarked, slightly smiling.

"Speaking of all of us, we seem to be missing the Mandelbaums and Mr. Kowalczyk," Papadopoulos noted. "It's almost ten o'clock. I'm surprised they're not here already."

"They may have stopped at the bank," Irene suggested.

A family of regular tourists joined the queue. They all nodded a polite greeting and took another few steps forward. The Scurrs were nearing the front of the line.

Irene shot a quick look back at the outer gate, but there was no sign of the Mandelbaums. Another few steps, and she met the sentry standing next to one of the castle's doors. He was older than the other guards she had seen, not quite as old as Admiral Sverdrup, but he was certainly a senior officer in Arendelle's ranks, and she was fairly positive she had seen him at the state dinner yesterday evening.

"Good morning, ma'am. Two adults and two children?" he asked, visually inspecting her family.

"Yes, sir," she answered, feeling sure that his expert eye was looking for any odd shape in their clothing or shifty mannerisms.

"Six skillings, please," he said genially enough for a man whose job was to be suspicious of the visitors. She passed him the coins, and he distributed four tickets to them. "Please keep those with you for the duration of the tour. We also ask that you bring no weapons, tools, food, drinks, other liquids, chewing gum, pencils, pens, or similar items past this point."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," Irene vouched.

"Thank you, ma'am. Enjoy the tour." He gestured toward the door, and just another few steps forward carried them inside.

Irene smothered a giggle, because the Mandelbaums and young Kowalczyk were already in the front foyer, which was adorned with tapestries, paintings -one of which was a portrait of Queen Elsa, her platinum blonde hair up in a bun, wearing a formal dress with a black top, teal skirt and matching suede gloves, and a lengthy purple cape of felted wool- and a selection of ice sculptures, along with the fine architectural ornaments of the castle's woodwork and a cheery fire crackling in the hearth to counteract the damp chill outside.

Eliasz and Waclaw, who hadn't yet been to the Royal Gift Shop or viewed the courtyard walls up close, were utterly mesmerized by the ice. Adam and Beatrice quickly turned to the Queen's artwork, as well. Two guards kept a watch on the customers as they milled about the room and took in the decor.

"How long have you been here?" Irene asked softly as she sidled up to Debora and Zlata, who were looking at a tapestry that was assuredly an antiquity. It depicted sequences from an obviously great war in the past, with melees on ships, skirmishes atop precipices, spearmen standing shoulder to shoulder blocking a narrow mountain pass as archers -some of whom were women and children- shot from behind and above the phalanx at the invading army, and the ending was a very striking storm of ice and snow wrecking a fleet of longships against the rock walls of the fjord and the survivors surrendering.

"Oh, probably about twenty minutes. I didn't know how long the line would be, or if there was a maximum number of people allowed per tour," Debora said sheepishly.

"At least you've had something to keep you occupied," John said, examining a sizeable and detailed sculpture of people ice skating in the castle's courtyard.

In short order, Sinibaldo, Newark, Papadopoulos, and Homberg filed in. The Myrcian and the Lombard gaped at the Queen's handiwork. They gathered around the one that had the focus of the Polish men: a scene of fishermen pulling their net back aboard their boat, with a backdrop of a sheer cliff face - and hovering gulls.

Sinibaldo tentatively poked his index finger between one of the birds and the cliff.

"That's right. The birds aren't attached to anything," Eliasz confirmed. "Just like the merry-go-rounds yesterday. Or how she floated the samples of ice-fabric that had her dress' pattern on it at the reception."

"And you can't budge them out of position, no matter how hard you tug, even though they're tiny," Waclaw said.

"So she can passively sustain an arrangement that involves antigravity, probably indefinitely. The potential practical uses are mind-boggling, although this artistic application makes for a wonderful conversation piece," Sinibaldo pronounced.

"This one isn't bad, either," Homberg said, scrutinizing a sculpture of an eagle coming in for a landing on a rocky outcrop, its legs thrust forward and mighty wings upswept at an angle to decelerate. The Prussian played his hand between the bird of prey and the escarpment to demonstrate the lack of hidden supports.

"Let's be honest, _none_ of 'em are bad," quipped one of the other tourists - an Irishman judging from the brogue that accented his Disnee. "Although I don't know why she's made so many of that mountain."

"It might be a top request at the gift shop," Debora posited.

"Is that the Ice Palace?" asked one of the children from the family that had been last in line. They were Dutch, if the boy's inflection was anything to go by.

"Yes," said Papadopoulos. "And reportedly to scale."

Newark appraised the sculpture and shook his head as he chuckled. "Then it's somewhere between one hundred and two hundred meters tall." The laypeople gasped. "While that sounds impressive -and it certainly would be for a normal building constructed out of normal materials by normal techniques- it isn't for Her Majesty's capabilities," he elucidated. "It's just the Snow Queen's version of a modest mountain chalet."

"Well, maybe she could build me her version of a humble cottage if she ever travels to Limerick," the Irishman bantered. "Couldn't be any colder and draftier than the one I have now."

A few of the other tourists snickered, but everyone quickly fell silent when the senior guard strode in from outside, followed by Princess Anna's good friend, Stefanie. The Scurr family, Debora, Zlata, Waclaw, Homberg, and Papadopoulos all waved to her, and she responded in kind. The guard shut the door behind him and motioned everyone's attention to Stefanie.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Stefanie Rask, and I'll be your guide this morning; Captain Grimsen, Lieutenant Vollan, and Sergeant Holt will also be helping us," the young woman said. "Since this is a working castle and royal residence, please respect the staff, other guests, and family possessions."

They all nodded in unison. Many of the parents in the group took a moment to whisper directives in their children's ears. Eliasz also gave Debora an imploring look, while Zlata and Waclaw pretended to be unaffiliated with the older Poles, and this time Irene could not fully contain a chortle, earning her a cautionary nudge from John and curious eyes from her children. The rest of the researchers ducked their heads to keep the giddiness from spreading. The senior guard, Captain Grimsen, was already staring at them, and he did not look amused.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen, please stick together, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask," instructed Lieutenant Vollan.

"Let's begin with a decisive period in our history: the war to preserve Arendelle's sovereignty, as commemorated in the tapestry of King Egil I's saga, which dates from the early tenth century," Stefanie said as she lead the guests over to the embroidered linen. "Before the Viking era, this part of the Scandinavian peninsula was comprised of many petty kingdoms, and there was a constant struggle for dominance among the nations. Vestfold, a realm on the western side of is now called Kristiania Fjord was founded by migrants from the Southern Isles, and over the generations, their kings brought most of the region under their rule by right of inheritance through strategic marriages or by military conquests. But Arendelle and Thelir, our inland neighbor to the northeast, allied to resist their ambitions. We fought on and off for many decades to keep our independence."

The tour group took turns getting up-close looks at the battle sequences. "It would appear that a winter gale played a crucial role," Newark observed.

"Yes, sir. After several petty kingdoms on the coast were subjugated, including Grenland, our neighbor to the east, and Mandelle, our neighbor to the west, we were boxed in. Vestfold's Harald, who already styled himself King of Norway, launched a large assault against us during our harvest time, in hopes of catching us unawares and short-handed, or at least weakening us by reducing our food supply for the winter. But an early-season storm capsized his ships or drove them against the rocks; we captured King Harald and the few other warriors who were spared by the sea," Stefanie related. "In the backcountry, many of the land-side attackers perished in the sudden blizzard, or were forced to retreat or turn themselves in. We were then able to secure an end to the hostilities."

"How unbelievably lucky," Newark said dryly, as the crowd buzzed with astonishment.

"Indeed, sir. It was seen as the will of the gods that Arendelle and Thelir would not and should not be vanquished, and King Harald swore a great oath that Norway would never again take up arms against us 'until the Agðir Mountains shall fall,' " Stefanie explained. "But of course, King Harald's desire for a peaceful ending probably also had something to do with literally having the sword of King Egil at his throat and the spear point of King Glúmr of Thelir at his heart, as well as having lost much of his army and warships. He was going to have enough trouble retaining the parts of Norway he already had annexed without trying further to subdue us."

Grimsen, Vollan, and Holt smiled impishly. Although the story was almost one thousand years old and well-known to every Arendellian, there was still something satisfying about the comeuppance, no matter how many times they heard it.

"This King Harald wasn't put to death?" Eliasz asked incredulously.

"No, sir. According to the saga, King Egil and King Harald were cousins of some close degree via Harald's Mandellian bloodline, and King Egil considered it wrong to kill a kinsman, even one who was trying to take his crown, unless there was no other option. He did, however, hold a few of the belligerent nobles as long-term hostages, in case Norway did not intend to abide by the treaty; otherwise, he collected ransoms for the release of King Harald and his surviving men, and extracted reparations for the loss of life on our side and damage to our settlements and disruption of our commerce and productivity, as did King Glúmr for Thelir," Stefanie recounted.

"And what was the king's ransom?" Newark queried, narrowing his eyes.

"Territory and the associated natural resources, sir," Stefanie answered. "To Thelir, King Harald ceded all of Seljord Lake and lands south past the village of Bœr, now known as Bø. To Arendelle, he transferred the lower part of the Otra river that ran through old Mandelle to the sea and about five kilometers of the surrounding countryside and communities to the west of it, along with a maritime claim roughly five kilometers out into the Skagerrak. To both Arendelle and Thelir, he forfeited sections of the Hardanger Plateau in the interior. We fortified our new frontier and established what could be called a naval station at the town of Otruness, at the mouth of the river. We gained a buffer zone and valuable arable land, pasture, forests, mineral deposits, and premier fishing and hunting habitats."

"Good fishing, eh?" the Irishman angled. Waclaw, Homberg, John, and some of the other tourists also perked up.

"Yes, sir. We have a variety of chartered saltwater and freshwater fishing expeditions to choose from, all equipment provided," Stefanie baited with a smile. "Something for every month, for every budget. Right now, the grayling are biting."

The Irishman, Waclaw, Homberg, and John exchanged meaningful looks.

"So are the potential customers," Sinibaldo said _sotto voce_. Irene and Debora rolled their eyes; Zlata and Papadopoulos laughed behind their hands.

"Perhaps if we skipped lunch in the town, I could-" John began to say to Irene. His wife lightly swatted his arm and frowned. This time, Grimsen smirked.

Newark remained aloof from the digression. "Why not seize _everything_ that was under King Harald's rule? Or at least more of it?"

"The saga really doesn't say, sir, but King Egil I was characterized as 'distrusting' foreigners and strangers, while King Glúmr was described as being 'wary' and 'suspicious.' Perhaps they had no taste for international relations and politics, such as they were back in those days. And in retrospect, dividing the spoils between Arendelle and Thelir would have been problematic for a number of reasons, and likely would have lead to a war between the allies if they had tried," Stefanie said.

Newark silently absorbed that for a few moments. "Intriguing. Miss Rask, is there a Disnee translation of this saga or a scholarly dissertation about it?"

"Yes, sir. There are translations of all our sagas and annals in the university's library, and Minister Rogalund has written modern analyses for several of them. Going further back, to the mid-eighteenth century, Bishop Bredahl wrote 'Branching Paths,' something like a moral primer about the lessons that could be learned and conclusions that could be drawn from our local history," Stefanie informed him.

The researchers all exchanged meaningful looks. "Thank you. It sounds like some of us have a few evenings of interesting reading ahead," Newark said.

"Given the nature of Arendelle's current monarch, is there anything to suggest that the snow storm was magically generated?" ventured Papadopoulos. The tourists murmured expectantly; most of them had been wondering the same thing.

"While there was the belief that the storm was divine intervention, no lore has been passed down to us that indicates there was magic like Queen Elsa's involved, sir. There is no mention of the storm behaving in an unnatural manner, with snow falling from a clear sky, for example; or the snow, wind, and cold lasting for an abnormal length of time or disappearing unusually quickly or in a strange fashion. The saga does say that some of our crops were ruined, and there are no reports of mysteriously rapid regrowth. If it was the work of a magic user, he or she had only rudimentary control and never publicly came forward to take credit," Stefanie clarified.

The clergyman turned to the rendering of Elsa, and the tour group, guide, and guards followed his gaze.

"Her Majesty in her coronation outfit, painted shortly before the ceremony by the renowned Bretaigne Sous le Vent," Stefanie said. The portrait stared back at them, gloved hands demurely clasped in front of her, the carriage of her head at a modest tilt, but her smile was confident yet enigmatic, and her eyes teasingly took everyone's measure.

"Now _there_ is a woman with a secret if ever I've seen one," the Irishman declared.

There were suppressed snorts of laughter, and Irene was astounded that one of them came from Grimsen.

"Apparently so, sir," Stefanie granted wryly.

"I have to admit that being all covered up looks ... wrong on her," Debora said quietly. Many others in the group nodded.

"If you got it, flaunt it," the Irishman agreed.

Grimsen was far less pleased by that statement. "The Queen of Arendelle is not flaunting _it_ , sir," he said sternly.

"I meant her magic, Captain. Solely her magic, sir," the Irishman insisted. Grimsen gave the visitor a hard look, but signaled he was mollified.

"What did the captain think he meant, mama?" the little Dutch boy asked innocently. Adam, Beatrice, and the other children also waited for the Dutch mother's reply.

"That the Queen shows off her ... ankles, dear," the Dutch mother improvised, and gave Stefanie a pleading look before she and her husband glared at the Irishman and Grimsen, who duly hung their heads.

"Moving on to the next portion of our history," Stefanie said as she escorted everyone to a set of wall-hangings and an ancient map and got the tour back on track, "we come to the Hegemony of Arendelle, when our holdings reached their greatest extent. While Norway honored its promise to not attack us militarily again, they did not trade with us for many centuries. Neither did the Southern Isles or the larger mainland Swedish kingdoms favor us in commerce; they would accept only the hard currencies of the day -gold, silver, jewels, or slaves- from us in exchange for any of their goods. So we sailed forth, raiding and trading in distant countries to acquire precious metals and gems, thralls, livestock, foodstuffs, fabrics, pottery and glass, manuscripts, and technological developments of the age."

They all examined an elaborate tapestry, showing Arendellian Vikings -indicated by the grey-bodied, white-tailed eagle insignia on their shields and ships' sails- attacking, looting, exploring, and trading. Some of the commodities being bartered or plundered were surprising: books, soap, an astrolabe, a wheelbarrow, an array of gears, a spinning wheel, and something that might have been a magnetic compass. The one next to it was a portrayal of ships making harbor along a dune-lined beach and landing craft ferrying families ashore, followed by houses being constructed, fields being tilled, flocks of sheep being herded, and finally something that might have been a religious rite.

"Over the course of about three hundred sixty years," Stefanie resumed, leading the group over to the map, which presented the world known to Arendelle during the Viking era, "we voyaged throughout the East Sea to Finland, Pomerania, and the lands of the Balts; up the Rhine River to Weselton; to France; to Corona; to al-Andalus; south to Anfa; to Tripoli; to Sicily; to Alexandria and up the Nile River to Cairo the Victorious; to Byzantium; to Colchis; to all of the Western Isles; to Iceland; to Svalbarð; to Greenland; to Spitsbergen; to Karelia and the White Sea; to the Northern Islands in the Murman Sea.

"We occupied foreign lands, sending colonists to found Pettland, Orkneyjar, Hjaltland, Mön, Skuy, Havbredey, Føroyar, and, if the sagas are correct, even a settlement in the New World, in what is now Newfoundland, before Leif the Lucky." The guide indicated the farthest western area on the map, which was an uncannily accurate outline of the coast of Labrador, Newfoundland Island, and tantalizing bits of what could have been the southern part of Baffin Island and the eastern shore of Cape Breton Island.

"You certainly got around," Homberg marveled.

"We were desperate, sir," Stefanie acknowledged. "We had a lot of bigger competitors trying to beat us to the punches and the prizes, and hoping for us to falter. Plus, we were still boxed in on the Scandinavian Peninsula, so as our population grew, it needed somewhere to go, and some means to support itself. Unfortunately, that affected many of other people's homelands."

"Yes, you and the rest of the Norsemen really did a number on the Western Isles," Newark stated. "The Great Heathen Army left Myrcia a vassal state of some nation or other until after the Renaissance, and there still hasn't been a native royal dynasty since before the Skånelaw was imposed."

"Well, the Saxons and Angles did a number on the Celts and the Picts," the Irishman pointed out, "who did a number on whoever was there before them, and so on down the line until we reach the first poor cavemen to set up house in the Isles, thinking they had finally found a spot where nobody else would bother them."

"And even those first poor cavemen likely chased out some poor bears, bats, and wolves, who thought they had finally found a spot where nobody else would bother them," Homberg chimed in.

"True enough," Newark allowed with a mild smile. "One ethnicity's ruthless villains and darkest days are usually some other ethnicity's noble heroes and proudest moments."

"And some of the unpleasant events in the past have helped create some of the good that is in world today, or might have prevented an even worse future," Papadopoulos philosophized.

"My father told me never to complain or argue about anything in front of a priest or nun," the Irishman counseled Newark.

"Words of wisdom," Newark rejoined drolly.

Stefanie cleared her throat to regain the group's attention. "Eventually, our colonies were abandoned, became independent, or were incorporated into other states as we turned to purely legitimate trade. Thanks to cross-cultural influences and our own expertise, enterprise, and innovations, we found our niche. A few of the inventions we brought back gave us industrial or navigational advantages much earlier than other countries in medieval Europe," she continued. "The spinning wheel, which we further improved upon, gave us the ability to produce thread, and therefore fabric, much more efficiently than the hand-spinning of the day, enabling us to export surpluses of yarn, broadcloth, and finished garments for a profit. We refined the design and manufacturing of our axes and hatchets, crafting superior tools for the forest, farm, and general carpentry. The astrolabe and magnetic compass allowed us to set course with a precision that surpassed the rest of Europe in the Middle Ages, and so our speed made our merchant fleet a preferred means of maritime transport."

The guide directed everyone to a panel painting of a past king of Arendelle, flanked by banners with the predatory white-tailed eagle emblem, addressing his subjects while holding a gilded cross in his right hand and a potted purple crocus in his left one. The stiff, flat Gothic style contrasted dramatically with the elegant realism and depth of Elsa's likeness.

"We also discovered that the stigmas of our indigenous Agðir crocus could be used as a spice and a dye. Although boreal saffron is not quite as tasty as genuine saffron from the south, there was a demand for it in foreign markets," Stefanie went on. "King Eyarr II, our first Christian ruler, encouraged the protection of the wild plants' natural highland habitat and their cultivation on the slopes and their domestication for household gardens. Our local nickname for it was 'poor man's saffron' because every citizen was -and still is- free to gather it on the commons and sell it for personal income, and so even people of limited means had the potential to earn enough during the flowering season to sustain themselves through winter. Although we could not afford to build splendid palaces, mighty fortresses, or breathtaking cathedrals like many other countries, we considered it a blessing to have such an egalitarian source of wealth."

"But then one day, you learned just how precious your native crocus really is," John supplied. Prior to the revelation of Queen Elsa's magic, boreal saffron was Arendelle's biggest claim to international fame; and his hands-on experience with it was another reason he had been tempted by the job opening in the petty kingdom.

"Correct, sir. When the Black Death swept through Europe," Stefanie said. Many in the group fidgeted uncomfortably at the mention of the horrible contagion that had ravaged much of the then-known world, from China to Islamic Iberia, from Scandinavia and Iceland to the Barbary Coast. "Unfortunately, much of the damage was already done across the continent before we noticed a correlation between diet and resistance to the plague."

"Boreal saffron is used to this day when there is a reoccurrence of the plague," John affirmed, "both as a treatment in the early stages of the disease and as a preventative measure to decrease the risk of transmission among the healthy. We've also found it to be effective against consumption if the patient isn't too far gone, and some cases of pneumonia respond to it. I myself swear by washing with a soap made with it when we're preparing for surgery, and it's well-documented as a beneficial additive when dressing flesh wounds. We're still trying to figure out how it does it."

"And why the Agðir crocus has medicinal properties only when grown in Arendelle's upland soil," Homberg said.

"Is it a kind of magic, too?" Beatrice asked, looking from her father to Homberg.

"Probably not like Queen Elsa's or the radiant flower that saved the Queen of Corona, my dear, but sometimes the workings of nature are just as miraculous," Homberg averred. "The world is lucky that a perfectly ordinary -albeit extremely finicky and fascinating- plant yields a wonder drug."

"And that its true virtue was discovered when the need was greatest," John put in. The tour group nodded solemnly.

"To honor the plant that made the difference between life and untimely death for hundreds of thousands of people, and to symbolize rebirth and hope for the future after so much had been lost, King Erik IV -King Erik the Good- changed the royal family's heraldic device from the white-tailed eagle to the golden crocus," Stefanie explained. "In gratitude for Arendelle's mission of mercy to deliver as much boreal saffron as we could throughout the northern trade network to stop the spread of the disease, the Kingdom of Sweden gave us an orb and scepter, hallowed by St. Catherine of Vadstena herself, to match the new coat of arms. If you would please follow me, they are on display in one of the castle's armories, along with some of the other crown jewels and royal heirlooms."

Shepherded by Grimsen, Vollan, and Holt, the crowd funneled out of the foyer and down a well-lit hallway to a set of two tall, sturdily-built doors flanked by two tall, sturdily-built sentinels, who opened them at a sharp nod from their captain. Inside the windowless room were four more tall, sturdily-built sentinels, each one standing with his back to a different wall. They surveyed the tour group like white-tailed eagles.

"Arendelle knows how to watch over its valuables somewhat better than Corona does," the Irishman mumbled to himself.

"That we do," Holt whispered back with a sly smile.

The walls to the left and right of the door were lined with axes, swords, javelins, pikes, spears, crossbows, recurve bows, quivers of arrows, Modèle 1777 muskets, M1819 Hall rifles, Potsdam rifles, and barrels of gunpowder and crates of shot. The Mandelbaums and many others in the group stared wide-eyed at the arsenal. Newark whistled softly.

Stefanie drew the crowd's focus to the presentation cases, presumably made of the Snow Queen's indestructible ice, in the middle of the room and along the rear and front walls. She pointed to the golden crocus-topped orb and scepter, set with pale blue gemstones, resting on a green pillow. Beside them on an orange-yellow cloth lay a substantial necklace of large, alternating square-cut emeralds and amethysts set in gold with a golden crocus flower pendant.

"The holy orb and scepter, and a chivalric collar for the now-defunct Order of the Crocus, which was Arendelle's highest military award," Stefanie said.

In another case was an open, arched crown of plain gold and a slender fillet of unadorned silver on a purple cloth. Next to them was a golden tiara with a vaguely wave-like motif; a sapphire graced the center of its highest peak.

"The one on the right is the headgear for a king regnant; the one on the left is for a queen regnant; the silver one in the middle is for a prince consort. Tragically, the one for a queen consort was lost at sea with Her Majesty's parents," Stefanie somberly imparted. The Arendellian guards all bowed their heads, and the guests observed a respectful silence.

After a few beats, Stefanie lead them over to a ring of keys, a one-handed sword with an inscription of "†VLFBERHT†" on its blade, and a silver belt buckle with a bear, a wolf, a raven, and an eagle embossed in the corners.

"The sword and belt buckle date from the reign of Bjørn the Berserk, 'the hardest of men' to quote the saga. While we cannot say for certain that it was part of his weapon collection, it is possible that he used it on a few raids or at least acquired it on a sortie, since this is a Frankish sword," Stefanie said. "The keys are from the first stronghold that served as Arendelle's castle. It used to stand roughly where the waterfront plaza and the lower level of town are now. The current castle and fortifications were built with the fortune that boreal saffron brought in, and were finished in the year 1510, after eleven years of construction, mainly for the creation of the artificial island and the defensive walls that join the castle to the cliffs and shield the harbor. The interior was updated in the early eighteenth century."

"That's somewhat surprising. When I first saw the exterior, I thought it might have been a converted church," Debora owned up.

"You are not exactly wrong, ma'am. The castle was built in the style of a stave church," Stefanie made known. "They were the grandest structures native to our region at the time."

The guide directed them to another case holding two codices, each one opened to a representative page. The ancient manuscripts, both seemingly scientific treatises in Greek, looked astoundingly well-preserved for their age.

"During the castle's renovations, a professional librarian was brought in to catalog the books and restore any that needed some tender loving care. He realized that the royal family was in possession of the only known surviving copies of 'On Polyhedra' by Archimedes of Syracuse and 'On Pneumatics' by Ctesibius of Alexandria," Stefanie announced.

Eliasz, Waclaw, Newark, and Sinibaldo all immediately moved in for a closer look, peering at the text and diagrams. In his excitement, Eliasz unconsciously reached out a hand toward the case, and Debora cleared her throat in reprimand. Her husband contritely checked himself.

"We have modern facsimile editions, along with a few other souvenirs, for sale in the guardroom when you exit," Vollan said helpfully.

"Of course," Irene said under her breath. John bit his lower lip to keep from laughing.

"Just take my money," Waclaw uttered. "All of Ctesibius' other writings are lost; we only know of his inventions from citations by other authors."

"I didn't think Vikings were bibliophiles. I didn't think Vikings could even _read_ ," Newark confessed.

"In general, they weren't and couldn't, sir. But due to our circumstances, we weren't above stealing ideas and adopting other civilizations' values if they could improve our standard of living or make Arendelle more secure," Stefanie disclosed. "There was no profit in being ignorant, so during the Viking era, the majority of Arendelle's population was literate in our local dialect and numerate. Most of our sagas were put down on parchment not long after the time in which the events occurred - and they aren't nearly as colorful as the other Nordic countries' chronicles. We also wrote down pagan beliefs and tales before Christianity arrived, and so our stories about the old gods, giants, elves, trolls, dwarves, dragons, and other supernatural beings have not been altered by a monotheistic moral bias."

Stefanie segued over to a case that contained a wooden ski with two small chunks missing from its edge. The leather binding was badly deteriorated: just a few shreds remained. "According to our lore, this ski was used by Nórr, founder of Norway and direct ancestor of our royal family, on his journey to find his missing sister, Gói," she stated.

"Searching for a missing sister? Now we know whose side of the family Princess Anna takes after," the Irishman jested. "Did he ever find her?"

"Yes, sir. The legend goes that Nórr and his followers set out from somewhere on the shore of the Gulf of Bothnia, traveled through the Kjölen Mountains -the Keel of Norway- to what is now Trondheimsfjord, then down the western and southern coasts, and back north and east, defeating all who opposed them, before they finally found Gói in Heidemark, which roughly corresponds to modern Hedemarken. After battling her kidnapper, King Hrólf of the Hill, they reached an agreement in which Hrólf kept Gói as his wife; Nórr married Hrólf's sister, Hödd; and Hrólf and his people agreed to serve Nórr. And thus Nóregr -Norway- was established, but the kingdom was soon divided amongst Nórr's descendants," Stefanie narrated, and motioned to the next case, which contained a golden torc-style bracelet. "Tradition has it that this armband belonged to Nórr's son, Garðr, who was the grandfather of the brothers Agði, the first king of Mandelle, and Agðar, first king of Arendelle."

"Fascinating. Do you have any idea when this is supposed to have taken place?" Newark probed.

"Going by the genealogy within the story and a few early kings whose reigns we can definitively pinpoint, Minister Rogalund estimates that it would have happened during the sixth or seventh century A.D., but given that Nórr's lineage includes ... mythological beings, it's not safe to make any assumptions," Stefanie warned.

"Which mythological beings, Miss Rask?" Newark prompted, his curiosity piqued.

Stefanie unexpectedly hesitated and glanced at Grimsen, who shrugged his shoulders and bobbled his head noncommittally. The researchers exchanged inquisitive looks, wordlessly wondering why their guide was suddenly so shy.

"Nórr was the son Þorri," Stefanie began slowly, "who was said to be king of Gotland, Kvenland, and Finland. Þorri was the son of King Snærr -which means 'snow' in Old Norse- the Old. Snærr was the son of Jökul - which means 'glacier, icicle, or ice' in Old Norse. Jökul was the son of Kári -which can mean both 'curved or wavy' and 'obstinate or pugnacious' in Old Norse- who was known as god of the wind, the 'Scathe of the Sail.' Kári was the son of Fornjótr -which means either 'ancient giant' or 'original owner' in Old Norse- who was also said to be king of Gotland, Kvenland, and Finland."

"Now we know whose side of the family Queen Elsa takes after!" the Irishman exclaimed as astonishment once more rippled through the tour group.

"Oh, Miss Duffin is going to have a ball with that family tree," John chuckled.

"It's just a bit of folklore, sir. No one really believes it, not even Her Majesty," Grimsen maintained.

"But this is one fantastical pedigree that is actually plausible," Newark countered. "If there were another race with magical-"

"Queen Elsa and the rest of our royal family are and always have been one hundred percent human, sir," Grimsen interrupted. "Please do not say that they might be giants. Or something more eerie."

The other tourists braced for a quarrel, since it was obvious that the captain of the guard was prepared to defend his sovereign more than just physically, and that the Snow Queen's taxonomic classification was a sensitive subject. Everyone was relieved when Newark backed off right away.

"I meant no insult, sir," Newark appeased. "Before the advent of written historical records and rigorous scientific analysis, a human family with the hereditary ability to control temperature, snow, ice, and wind would have undoubtedly been taken for gods, giants, or some other superior form of life -or at least come to be memorialized as such over time- by ordinary humans."

Grimsen also put his hackles down. "Possibly so, sir," he conceded. "But the story has been viewed as just a tall tale for many centuries, a way to give the youngsters an explanation of our beginnings when the elders didn't know the real answer. It's very common for the foundation stories of other nations to involve far-fetched people and events, but nobody gives any credence to _them_."

"That's because other nations don't have monarchs with magical powers that perfectly fit in with the local folklore," the Irishman jibed. "Although I freely admit that I believe the Tuath Dé and Formoire from back home were real and supernatural. Or at least that some humans used to be more ... special, once upon a time."

Grimsen gave the Irishman and Newark hard looks, but signaled to Stefanie to recommence with the tour. Everyone relaxed somewhat when she lead them over to another case. A frayed, faded black pennant decorated with a red V and B was within.

"And this was the flag that we captured when we helped liberate the Kingdom of Visby when the Victual Brothers' invaded and occupied the island back in the late fourteenth century. The Victual Brothers had also tried to blockade Arendelle, but they quickly found out that we had obtained the best artillery of the day, and that our cliffs gave us superb vantage points," Stefanie said smugly.

"Sunk them all," Holt added with a fist pump.

The guide ushered the group over to the last case, which contained an exquisite _katana_ and sheath. "And this sword was brought back from Japan by Queen Pippilotta. She voyaged extensively in her youth and became the first member of the royal family to circumnavigate the globe. If you would please follow me to the art gallery, you can see her portrait and a few more treasures that she returned home with," Stefanie offered.

They exited the armory, with Grimsen bringing up the rear, and the hallway sentries shut the doors behind their commander. As the group transited the corridor, they came upon another door, this one emblazoned with a large golden crocus, and tended by a tall, earnest-looking guard.

"That's the royal study," Stefanie notified them. "Queen Elsa is in a meeting right now, so please be quiet as we pass." They all but tiptoed as they went by.

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall in there right now," Newark murmured once they were a polite distance away.

"Perhaps Miss Duffin can be persuaded to share what she's found out," Sinibaldo said out of the corner of his mouth.

"We could buy her a meal," Waclaw proposed. "That always worked on me when I was a student."

"The way to a man's mind is through his stomach," Zlata teased. Waclaw playfully stuck out his tongue at her. Eliasz and Debora pretended to be unaffiliated with the younger Poles.

"How about a potluck supper, with Miss Duffin as the guest of honor?" Papadopoulos suggested. "I'll bring the salad."

"At our place, at six o'clock," Irene volunteered. Adam and Beatrice looked thrilled at the prospect of something that sounded like a party.

"Seems like we have a plan," Homberg approved.

The passageway lead to a spacious lobby at the base of huge spiral case, which was usually the highlight of this particular stop on the tour. But today all eyes were on a short, ambulatory snowman who was peeking behind the suits of armor posed against the wall at the base of the stairs.

Stefanie and the guards smiled affectionately as squeals of delight erupted from all of the children and even some of the adults in the tour group. The snowman looked up, beamed happily, and waddled closer to the visitors, his own personal flurry floating above his head.

"And this is Olaf," Stefanie introduced tenderly.

"And I like warm hugs," Olaf delivered his obligatory catch phrase and spread his stick arms wide. All of the children and most of the adults, including the Irishman, lined up for an embrace.

Olaf had nearly finished accommodating everyone, with Adam and Beatrice waiting to be last, when, out of the corner of his eye, John caught a blur of motion on the stairs above. A blur of motion that had strawberry blonde hair and was sliding down the coiling banister at alarming speed.

Grimsen also saw Princess Anna riding the railing, and knew all too well that her momentum would land her in the precise spot where Olaf and the children now stood. "Incoming!" the captain of the guard shouted and charged toward the snowman and the young guests in a desperate attempt to move them out of harm's way. Vollan and Holt instantly followed their leader. John and Irene could only watch and hope.

The Princess of Arendelle was on the penultimate turn of the staircase when she noticed the crowd at the foot of the steps, and her eyes went wide with dismay as she realized that she was on a collision course.

 **Author's Notes - Full disclosure: The whole story of Nórr is lifted straight from _Hversu Noregr_ _byggðist_ and the "Fundinn Nóregr" part of the _Orkneyinga saga_ , both found in the _Flateyjarbók_. Just look up Nór, Snærr, or Fornjót in Wikipedia. This real legend (?!) fits in so perfectly with "Frozen" that I'm surprised no one seems to have used it before. The only thing I've added is to make Mandelle (from the real town of Mandal in Vest-Agder) and Arendelle "sibling" kingdoms. More of Nórr's family tree will be discussed later on.**

 **The Agðir Mountains are fictitious. The oath of King Harald is one part shout-out to Norway's real national motto and one part foreshadowing (since I've already told you that a mountain chain is gonna get wiped out). The medicinal properties of boreal saffron aren't _too_ wackadoodle, since real saffron was used as an antiseptic for centuries. So I gave boreal saffron an antibacterial (but not antiviral) quality. The mystery of why it only happens in Arendelle's soil will be discussed. Hint: It does involve magic. Whether or not the storm that saved Arendelle was magic will also be discussed.**

 **Real-life Seljord Lake is said to have a lake monster (affectionately named Selma); it will be touched on when the crew goes to Thelir.**

 **The particular image of Elsa that I'm referencing is from "The Art of Frozen," and it's by Brittany Lee (hence the horrible translation for artist's name).**

 **You should try to imagine the Irishman being voiced by Johnny Depp's Jack Sparrow doing an Irish accent. Stunt casting in fan fiction!**

 **The list of objects that the Arendellian Vikings bring back really are things that medieval Europe didn't have (or had "lost") but were in existance in other parts of the world.**

 **The Murman Sea is an older term for the Barents Sea, and the "Northern Islands" are Novaya Zemlya. What is called Spitsbergen here is the older name for real-life Svalbard. What is called Svalbarð here is real-life Jan Mayen island. Imagine Pettland to be historic Caithness turned into an island. Orkneyjar = Orkney. Hjaltland = Shetland. Mön = Isle of Mann. Skuy = Isle of Skye. Havbredey = the Outer Hebrides. Føroyar = Faroe Islands. I felt compelled to give Arendelle an "empire" in days of yore because a dinky country wouldn't have survived amidst all those larger, stronger Viking nations.**

 **The Great Heathen Army was for-real, and it did leave real-life Mercia a vassal state after a period of dominance. The Skånelaw is a stand-in for the Danelaw, since "Frozen's" Danes are Southern Islanders.**

 **I've heard some people question why the search party for Anna and the Weselton assassins weren't armed with guns. It's because the guns of the era were extremely clunky. Think of how bad American Civil War firearms were, and then remember that "Frozen" is set before that. M1819 Hall rifles probably would have been state-of-the-art for the day, and they were incredibly bad by modern standards (8-9 shots per _minute_ in skilled hands). Plus, they didn't have smokeless powder, so after one or two shots, the shooters would have obscured their own view. Not exactly great for taking on a magic user.**

 **"On Polyhedra" and "On Pneumatics" really are still lost to us. The Victual Brothers (aka Likedeelers) were real pirates in the North and Baltic Seas. I made up their flag, though.**

 **I had to put in a _katana_ , because 1.) A Pippi Longstocking expy bringing home a _katana_ is just too cool to pass up; and 2.) Anna totally needs a _katana_ when the action gets going. Seriously.**

 **Elsa's not-cold, unbreakable, unmelting ice is deduced directly from the movie (and the shorts). At the skate party ending, the people aren't bundled up. In fact, when childhood Anna and Elsa are playing in the ball room, Anna isn't bundled up. She has on snow boots, but no robe or coat. A little girl in just a nightgown would have been shivering in the amount of snow Elsa created if it were really cold. Elsa can also make ice that's extremely strong. Anna's ice skates made of ice are a prime example, but the ice palace also has to be made from ice that is out-of-this-world strong - and Elsa really didn't even know what she was doing. Examples of unmelting ice are the skating rink and star/snowflake at the top of the castle at the end of the movie; the ice decorations and ice cream cake in the courtyard in "Frozen Fever;" and the ice/snow garland Elsa conjures inside the castle at the beginning of "OFA." Like I said, Elsa is ridiculously powerful - but in an interesting way if you know how to use it. I just hope the sequel doesn't have too many instances of Elsa "forgetting" all the things she absolutely, positively was capable of in the first movie.**


	38. Chapter 38

38\. Arts and Entertainment

Anna knew she had two options as she hurtled down the staircase's twisting balustrade toward Olaf and two children who looked distressingly similar to the new friends she had made yesterday: She could try to stop suddenly, and hope to stick the landing; or she could attempt a vaulting dismount, and hope to clear the youngsters' heads before she touched down. Momentarily complicating her decision was the frantic arrival of three castle guards into the scene. Bent over and their arms outstretched, they rushed in to snatch the little ones out of the danger zone.

This was simply too many moving bodies to leap over, and she felt optimistic that the guards would be able to shield the children even if she toppled over, and so, with only three meters to spare, she jumped off the railing and onto the stairs. For a fraction of a second, the Princess thought she would pull it off, that she would slow her forward motion enough and nonchalantly walk down the last treads to greet the visitors. But the transition was too abrupt, the width of the step was too narrow, and Anna lost her balance and fell forward, just as Grimsen and Holt swept Beatrice and Adam to safety against the wall,

Vollan and Olaf were not so lucky. The lieutenant tried to shove the snowman out of the way, but the Princess crashed into both of them. The three of them then tumbled toward the suits of armor, human arms futilely wind-milling and Olaf's body segments separating as they smacked into the first metallic ensemble. Vollan was not yet fully down, and he and the left arm and leg of the first suit plowed into the second one; and Olaf's head and abdomen -snow flurry in tow above- and the torso of the second suit knocked down the third.

The tour group looked on in shocked silence as several helmets, greaves, and vambraces rolled to a final stop against the opposite wall. The children stared in horror at the dismembered snowman, and some of them began to tear up and sniffle. The din immediately drew a stampede of castle staff, with Kai in the lead, and more guards, who froze in their tracks when they saw the tableau.

"Has anybody seen my nose?" asked Olaf's severed head. A few of the children let out muffled shrieks.

Grimsen and Holt quickly handed Adam and Beatrice over to their parents, who hugged the children close. The sergeant moved to Vollan's side and helped his fallen comrade back up. Grimsen knelt next to the Princess and lifted a cuirass off her midsection, and then arose and regarded her gravely, crossing his arms over his chest in displeasure.

Anna gazed up at the captain of the guard, Rune Grimsen, and felt like crawling inside the shell of steel he had just removed. When she had been a child, wandering about the castle in search of amusement or more than just a fleeting glimpse of her elusive sister, Grimsen had been the bane of her existence. He had often popped up right before, during, or soon after she had found a perfectly good (albeit in retrospect usually obnoxious, dirty, or risky) way to alleviate the monotony, nor was he ever interested in playing with her. She couldn't understand why her father appointed "Old Grim-Face" to be her chaperone when she went into town if neither one of her parents were available. And it seemed to be his special mission in life to thwart her youthful schemes to gain access to Elsa's suite when the loneliness and frustration became too much to bear. She had been very, very glad when the man retired a few months before her parents had ... been lost.

Of course, that was before Anna understood that it really _had_ been the guard's special mission, tasked to him by the king her father, to make sure the princesses stayed apart, no matter how much the younger one yearned for the company of the older one. That he had known about Elsa's magical abilities from the very hour of the heir's birth. That her childhood was filled with people, experiences, and memories that were not what they seemed.

After the Great Thaw and the gates were permanently reopened, Elsa had all but begged and undeniably bribed the pensioner to return to active duty, if only for long enough to train the new guards properly for the realities of a magical monarch and a castle that once again welcomed the public and hosted dignitaries, so that there would be no repeat of the security personnel's mistakes and shortcomings during the coronation ball and the Eternal Winter.

Anna was very, very glad that Old Grim-Face was a great deal more friendly and easy-going with her this time around. They had even shared genuine laughs about her escapades, engaged in good-natured teasing, and had a few candid conversations about her family. But there were still moments when the guard's manner made her feel like a little girl being marched to her father and/or mother to be scolded for some transgression. When the captain finally leaned over and proffered his hand, she took it with some trepidation, halfway expecting him to haul her off to the royal study so that the Queen could lecture her on why sliding down the stair rails was now frowned upon, especially on Tuesdays and Fridays.

But Grimsen merely gave Anna an admonishing look, and tilted his head in the direction of Olaf's main parts. Anna nodded slightly. They both then turned to putting the snowman back together before the children broke into full-blown crying. Stefanie and Kai also began rummaging through the pile of armor in search of his feet, arms, and carrot. In due course, Olaf was almost reassembled, as the children clapped, and the adult guests watched in wonder.

"I got your nose," Stefanie announced, shaking the carrot out of a sabaton, and gently replaced it on the snowman's face. He gingerly made sure the vegetable was oriented the correct way.

"Thank you," Olaf said cheerfully, none the worse either structurally or mentally for the incident. The tour group blinked in disbelief that it was as simple as stacking his sections and sticking his arms and nose back on. The researchers exchanged meaningful looks.

"Is everyone else all right?" Kai inquired.

Adam and Beatrice both nodded, although the little girl still clung tightly to her father's chest and tucked her head beneath his bearded chin. Anna, Grimsen, and Holt all indicated an affirmative.

"I'm fine," Vollan certified. "We should probably add something like that to our calisthenics program. It's invigorating, but easier than what Her Majesty puts us through." All the guards, including Grimsen, chuckled, and Anna turned red in embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry!" Anna said to the lieutenant. He was one of the guards hired after the Great Purge, and he was always professional and cordial with her; his two young sons, Halvard and Haakon, were often attendees when the castle's social functions had a children's division. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"Don't worry yourself, ma'am. No harm done," Magnus Vollan smiled gallantly to put the Princess at ease. Like all the new employees, he had been apprised by Grimsen about what to expect on the job: Basically, all kinds of chaos and calamities, some heretofore unencountered by humanity, and not necessarily caused by Her Majesty's magic. Since Vollan's sons were lively and adventurous, and he was used to their hijinks, the forewarning hadn't been the least disconcerting.

Satisfied that the living didn't need assistance, the staff focused on the inanimate objects, and began picking up the jumble. They were well-practiced in reconnecting an arm or putting a helmet back on, but the triple hadn't been scored since the Queen had extricated herself from the dungeon and sent lances of ice jutting throughout the castle in the process. Making sure each piece went to its correct suit would take a little time.

"I _was_ going to tell you that the suits of armor are from 1560, were made in Milan, and were only used for ceremonial purposes, but instead, allow me to present Princess Anna of Arendelle," Stefanie said with heavy sarcasm to the customers.

Anna sighed. This morning was not going much better than yesterday evening. Her friend was probably not going to let her live this one down for a while. A few of the tourists gasped in surprise when they heard her identity, and most of them began bowing or curtsying, which only made her more self-conscious.

"Please don't do that. It's just me," Anna deflected. "You just saw me fall down the stairs. I'm not exactly the most regal Princess."

By way of exposition, the Princess began to sing:

 _I cannot lie._

 _When I was six,_

 _I climbed a scaffold and_

 _Spilled a load of bricks._

 _Trying to help,_

 _But making a mess._

 _It's the story of my life,_

 _I must confess._

 _I'm just a klutz,_

 _For goodness' sake._

 _There isn't anything_

 _That I can't break._

 _Clumsy girl,_

 _Clumsy girl._

 _Hopelessly bumbling._

 _Hopelessly fumbling._

Anna danced and twirled around with her arms outstretched, and didn't notice that she whacked a small ship in a bottle from its perch on a breakfront, and propelled it in an arc toward the guests. Holt raced forward and intercepted the glass with a leaping catch, and then handed it to a footman for safekeeping.

 _Out for a sail_

 _Into the fjord,_

 _I snapped the dinghy's mast_

 _And fell overboard._

 _Got stuck up in a chimney,_

 _And it seemed pretty dire,_

 _Because one of the maids_

 _Started to light a fire._

 _Not really sure_

 _Why I had the notion,_

 _But it definitely_

 _Caused a huge commotion._

 _Clumsy girl,_

 _Clumsy girl._

 _Hopelessly bumbling._

 _Hopelessly fumbling._

The Princess mimicked ascending a make-believe chimney by wedging herself in a corner and pressing her back against one wall and her legs against the orthogonal component - and promptly fell down on her rump when her feet slipped. Grimsen, Stefanie, and Kai grimaced, but Anna casually stood back up with nary a pause.

 _I thought I'd bring my_

 _Parents breakfast in bed._

 _But I dropped the tray and_

 _Got pancakes on papa's head._

 _Used my mattress to_

 _Sled down the stairs._

 _Tore a hole in it, and sent_

 _Feathers flying everywhere._

 _'They say a princess is_

 _Full of charm and grace,'_

 _But I push the limits even_

 _If I'll fall flat on my face._

 _Clumsy girl,_

 _Clumsy girl._

 _Hopelessly bumbling._

 _Hopelessly fumbling._

As she began the last two lines of the chorus, Anna tried to stride forward and strike a charismatic pose, like Elsa always did at the end of the song that opened the magic show, but her heel caught on the bottom of a drape - and the whole curtain came down, with the rod narrowly missing Anna's head as she staggered. Grimsen, Stefanie, and Kai hurried to help steady the Princess, while a maid pulled the long velvet cloth away from her feet before she could trigger another mishap.

The Irishman dug around in his pants pocket, produced two coins, and lobbed them in Anna's direction, as though tipping a busker. "Brava!" he shouted. "Great choreography!"

The other regular tourists all followed his lead and clapped. Anna smiled wanly. The researchers and their families shared bemused looks. Grimsen gave the Irishman yet another hard stare.

"You're in rare form this morning, Princess," Stefanie razzed under her breath.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. For me, this is just a regular Tuesday," Anna deadpanned back, quietly and quickly.

"Pfft, you usually don't reach this level of mayhem until Thursday, Your Highness," Grimsen whispered.

Anna pursed her lips. Ignoring the jibe, she picked up the coins and returned them to the Irishman. "It's not necessary, sir," she said as graciously as she could.

"Sorry, Your Highness. I hope you didn't take offense. It's hard to know whether gratuities are expected in other countries," the Irishman said as he put the money back in his pocket. "In my experience, people who break into song and dance routines in public are usually looking for a little financial compensation."

"Oh, we have street performers, and they really appreciate it if you toss a few coins their way," Anna clarified, "but a lot of the people here are kind of ... musically inclined. It's not that odd for us to sing or play an instrument just for the fun of it, or because music expresses our emotions better than plain words. Even Elsa- I mean, Queen Elsa does it."

"Is she any good?" asked the Irishman.

"She's _tolerable_ , but she shouldn't quit her day job," Anna joshed. All of the native Arendellians, including Grimsen, burst out laughing.

"I suspect you are slandering Her Majesty's talent," the Irishman played along.

"You can hear the Queen sing during the magic shows on Saturdays," Stefanie informed the group. "And she'll be singing the verses of our national anthem to commence the Harvest Festival on Friday, while everyone who wants to joins in for the chorus."

"I get _chills_ just thinking about it," Olaf said earnestly with a straight face and then winked. All of the children, even Beatrice, giggled at the joke; the adults rolled their eyes, groaned, or shook their heads.

"Can tourists go to this Harvest Festival?" the Irishman asked.

"Yes, sir. Admission is free, and so are most of the musical acts and dances on the main stages, but you have to pay for food, beverages, and wares," Stefanie explained. "Some of the other entertainments cost extra. There is also a separate fee to see the magic show on Saturday."

"It's a pretty _fair_ deal," Olaf punned. The children giggled once again; the adults pinched the bridges of their noses, face-palmed, or heaved sighs tinged with tenderness.

Stefanie chuckled and tried to call the group to order and get the tour back on schedule. "All right, ladies and gentlemen, let's head to the gallery, unless anyone needs a lavatory break," Stefanie urged. She may as well make use of the additional help to herd the guests to the various ground floor privies.

Some of the visitors signaled an interest, and Grimsen, Vollan, Holt, and the reinforcements conducted most of them down the corridors that branched off from the atrium. Anna, however, claimed the Scurrs as her responsibility.

"I'll take you to the best one. I'm sorry for scaring you like that. I didn't see anybody at the bottom before I started to slide, but you don't really have a great view of what's at the base from up there, and I should know better than to do that now that we have so many people coming and going all day and staying overnight. Elsa and Kai and Captain Grimsen warned me that something like that could happen, but I'm usually going _up_ the stairs around this time, and I forgot that we had a tour today, because it doesn't _feel_ like a Tuesday," the Princess prattled as she lead them back down the hallway toward the royal study and stopped at a door that had intricate, colorful rosmaling painted on it. "Here we are."

Adam went in first. Beatrice looked up shyly at their royal hostess, and summoned the nerve to ask: "Are you still going to the Harvest Festival, Princess Anna?"

"Oh, yeah! I wouldn't miss it for anything!" Anna said enthusiastically.

Beatrice observed the Princess' buoyant attitude, and concluded that it did not seem likely that she had been or would be harshly punished for the episode with the cake. "Did you really do all those things in your song?" the little girl inquired.

"Yup. And more," Anna admitted somewhat bashfully.

"Did your parents ever get angry?" Beatrice posed.

"Beatrice, remember what we said about asking too many questions," Irene gently chided. The little girl lowered her head and nodded.

"It's all right, Mrs. Scurr," Anna reassured them. "If it was something I did just being inept or because I didn't know better, I almost never got into trouble for it. But on occasion, I did have to stand in a corner, or had my dessert privileges revoked. I also had my bicycle taken away from me for a couple of weeks a few times." Like when Grimsen caught her trying to use it to ram open a certain locked door.

 _And I had my sister taken away from me for thirteen years_ , Anna brooded to herself.

John and Irene noticed the Princess' countenance darken and hoped their daughter would heed the recommendation to stop being nosy. Fortunately, Adam exited the restroom, and Beatrice took her turn.

"It must have been really fantastic growing up in a castle with all this fancy stuff, Princess Anna," Adam remarked; he was over the temporary tension caused by the near collision. "You have your own museum!"

"Yeah, in a way. Although most of the things weren't out on display when I was a child," Anna disclosed.

"Oh. But that staircase looks like it's a lot fun," Adam supposed.

"Hush, Adam. You might be making Her Highness uncomfortable," John gently reproved. The little boy lowered his head and nodded.

"Don't worry, Dr. Scurr," Anna smiled, fully understanding the youngster's mind-set. "It _is_ a lot of fun. And when we get to the gallery, I'll show you something else that's a lot of fun."

John and Irene shared a glance, not entirely sure if this "fun" would be suitable for small children given the nature of the Princess' other antics, or how much it would disrupt the tour.

"Please don't inconvenience yourself, Your Highness. I'm sure you have more important things to attend to," Irene said.

"Do you think I would have been sliding down a banister if I had important things to attend to?" Anna laughed as Beatrice rejoined them in the hallway. "I have only one week of complete freedom left, and I want to cram as much fun into it as possible."

"Are you going to prison after all?" Beatrice asked, aghast, and looked from the Princess to her father in confusion.

"No, not prison. But next week I have to start taking 'Queen lessons' and a first aid course," Anna replied with exaggerated somberness as she escorted the family back to the stairs. John and Irene shared another glance, tacitly grasping that the head of the royal family had imposed these academic objectives.

Beatrice considered the Princess. It was surprising to her, as a seven-year-old daughter of a doctor and midwife, that an adult princess hadn't _already_ taken Queen lessons and a first aid course, but her parents' reminder to be polite inhibited her from saying so. And maybe the Princess had been spending her time studying other worthy subjects.

"Wow, you get to take Queen lessons!" Adam gushed.

"It's not that exciting, trust me," Anna maintained.

"Perhaps the first aid course will make up for it, Your Highness," John suggested with a smile.

Anna stopped walking as she processed the doctor's words. "You're teaching at the university!" she realized.

"That's right, and one of my classes is general first aid," John confirmed. "Well, I have two weeks to make my final decision before I sign the contract and get to work in the schoolroom and the clinic, but so far, things are looking positive."

Anna beamed. Suddenly, Elsa's order to enroll in a class for a real grade no longer felt like a punishment. She wondered if this was an example of the Queen's ability to subtly maneuver people and events to achieve desirable results, or if this was another instance of her sister's rare knack for serpentidity ... septerid... for unintentionally doing something that turned out amazing.

"That's fabulous! Now I almost can't wait to get started!" Anna declared and skipped happily back into the lobby where the rest of the group was reconvening. Irene gave John's forearm a soft, approving pat for encouraging the young woman.

The castle staff was making headway sorting out the armor; Olaf was back to investigating the crannies between the furnishings and the walls or floor; Kai was whispering something confidential in Grimsen's ear; all of the returning regular tourists were bubbling about the flush toilets in the castle's bathrooms.

"By my aunt's wig, that's the most remarkable thing yet!" the Irishman proclaimed.

"It's such a _clean_ way of doing it," the Dutch mother endorsed.

"Installed in 1792, the last full year of Queen Pippilotta's reign. If you would, please follow me to the gallery," Stefanie said once everyone was present. Olaf waved farewell to the guests as they ambled off.

"Wait until you see what else Queen Pippilotta had installed," Anna whispered to the Scurr children. She fidgeted in place impatiently as Stefanie opened the tall double doors that led to her favorite room in the castle.

The tour group filed in and marveled at the royal family's accumulation of artwork. Debora pushed to the front, with Eliasz, Zlata, and Waclaw tailing her.

The Princess couldn't resist smiling at the guests' reactions. The gallery had certainly been Anna's personal museum when she was growing up, although she hadn't really thought of it that way until Adam described the castle as such. When the gates were closed, it was the place that most stimulated her imagination, where scenes of the outside world, of times long gone, of other people's lives and creative visions could transport her out of the dreary reality of the shuttered castle. The library had its appeal, but the contents of the books were so _final_. The real historical details or fictional plots were unalterable, the outcomes irreversible. This was fine when it was a straightforward happy ending, but when the conclusion didn't satisfy her own tastes, it was pointless to read it again, in hopes that something different could happen. Joan of Arc would always be burned at the stake; Achilles would always slay Hector; Gulliver would always end up a recluse who preferred the company of horses over humans.

But she, or one of the sympathetic adults in her life, could dream up new stories about the pictures on the walls. The people on the canvases could be whoever Anna wanted them to be, whoever she needed them to be. In the gallery, Joan of Arc still fought on to liberate her countrymen, or maybe was never captured and eventually married a prince after she had driven the Western Islanders out of France; the various revelers and romantics never told her to go away or be quiet; the earnest philosophers, stalwart soldiers, bold sailors, honest laborers, and dancing angels recognized and complimented her merits.

It was also a place where she felt a strong sense of belonging to a family. Her father would always tell her some family lore whenever they looked at the ancestral portraits. And her mother would share anecdotes about her relatives - she had even had a few paintings from her homeland shipped to Arendelle once she discovered how much visual aids inspired her younger daughter. Anna never tired of hearing about the courtships, voyages, and exploits of her forebears. She had had no doubt that _they_ would have played with her, and perhaps even included her on a daring raid in some distant country, or at least a daring raid on the cookie jars in the kitchen.

Stefanie lead the guests over to the right, and stopped in front of a painting that was roughly an arm long by an arm wide. Anna grinned as she looked up at her great-grandmother Pippilotta. The customers drew sharp breaths at the astonishing resemblance between the current-day Princess and the past monarch.

"I swear, you look just like her, Your Highness!" the Irishman asserted. "Well, her hair is more orange, and she has more freckles, and I don't know _what_ she did to her braids to make them stick out like that, and your nose is cuter, but you could pass for her."

"Father told me that if he had known how much I would look like her and act like her, he would have named me after her," Anna chuckled. "Although I'm kind of thankful he didn't because 'Anna' was a lot easier to learn how to spell. As Elsa once said, I have only two letters to keep track of." She felt a twinge of nostalgia at the memories of her big sister helping her to learn how to read and write - and a touch of vexation that she wasn't sure how much those memories had been altered. "But I do hope I age as gracefully as she did, and get to travel to a few of the places she went to." In theory, nothing was stopping her from going a-voyaging, but there was no way she would leave Elsa for an extended length of time right now.

"Over here you can see one of the paintings Queen Pippilotta brought back from a journey to the Far East," Stefanie indicated a small picture of a cat viewed from the back looking at a stand of bamboo. "This is by Jin Nong, one of the Eight Eccentrics of Yangzhou."

Debora scrutinized the illustration, for works from exotic lands were still uncommon, even among the collections of wealthy nobles. The stippled blotches of colored ink captured the subtle variation of hues in the cat's fur as well as giving the impression of a weave of sun and shadows caused by an unseen canopy of leaves. Although the style was extremely minimalist, the technique and overall ambiance was sophisticated. Debora was intrigued by this glimpse of a mysterious and glamorous culture. "This doesn't look very eccentric," she commented.

"Nonetheless, that was what the group of artists were called, ma'am. Possibly it had something to do with the fact that Jin Nong sold his paintings on the open market rather than seeking a patron," Stefanie elucidated.

"Would you call it valuable, then?" the Irishman queried, rubbing his thumbnail on his lower lip. Grimsen stared hard at him once more.

"It's difficult to say, sir. While it is a rarity here, its price would depend on people's predilections, as with all art," Stefanie pointed out. "The royal family has usually bought what appeals to them, rather than acquiring pieces as investments for resale."

"Yeah, some of this stuff is a little on the weird side, like this one over here," Anna said and tilted her head at a sizeable triptych that was as florid and hectically detailed as the Chinese painting was spare and tranquil. Anna had never really understood everything that was happening in the three panels. The two naked people in the left frame were probably Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden; the large middle section had strange people exhibiting bizarre behavior while pulling or following a wagon stacked with hay; the right panel seemed to depict people being tortured by monsters. Whenever she had asked the grown-ups in her life what was going on in the painting, they had always professed ignorance or told her that they would explain when she was older.

"Some of those people don't have any clothes on," Adam noted. Irene shushed him with a stern look.

" 'The Haywain' by Hieronymus Bosch?!" Debora blurted out. "How did I miss _that_ yesterday?"

"You know this one?" Anna asked in astonishment.

"Well, I've never actually seen it before, Your Highness, but I'm familiar with the description, and Bosch's style is unmistakable," Debora stated. "There is another version of this in Spain. That one features 'The Wayfarer' on the reverse of the outer panels."

"You mean there's another painting on the back of this?" Anna asked in even more astonishment.

"There could be, Your Highness," Debora conjectured.

Anna immediately rushed to the left panel to take it down from the wall, but Grimsen quickly blocked her. "Hold it right there, ma'am," he directed. "First, you know the rule is 'look but don't touch' - especially with the day you're already having. And second, that's probably too heavy for you handle by yourself."

"Oh, come on, Captain!" Anna implored. "This could be a huge discovery!"

The rest of the tour group and even Stefanie gave Grimsen beseeching looks or meekly pleaded for their curiosity to be indulged.

"Please, sir? Think of it as an educational opportunity for the children," the Irishman wheedled.

"Please, sir?" asked the Dutch father. "Bosch is one of my country's great artists."

"Please, sir? My wife will be impossible to live with until she knows for sure," Eliasz supplicated. Zlata and Waclaw nodded vigorously in corroboration. Debora huffed in annoyance.

Grimsen exhaled resignedly. "Oh, all right," he yielded. "Lieutenant, sergeant, if you would be so kind? And remember that those panels are solid wood, not canvas. And try not to touch the paint."

Vollan stepped forward to the left panel, while Holt took the right one. They delicately grasped the edges and lifted the segments off their hangers. The guards then swiveled their loads so that the back sides faced the group and leaned them up against the wall.

Sure enough, split between the two boards, there was a painting of a man carrying a bundle on his back, fending off a dog, with a few odd background events, including something that looked like a robbery in progress. The tour group once again buzzed with amazement.

"Yes!" hissed Debora.

"Whoa!" Anna said hoarsely.

"Well, I'll be..." Grimsen mumbled.

"Wow!" the little Dutch boy breathed.

"Fry me!" the Irishman uttered.

"I'd say we're getting our money's worth on this showing," Papadopoulos reckoned, eyes wide. "Along the lines of a world premiere."

"Indeed, sir. Who would have known there was something on the flip side? Except Mrs. Mandelbaum, that is," Stefanie lauded, and smiled warmly as Eliasz, Zlata, and Waclaw proudly gathered around their matriarch and hugged her. From talking with the newcomers on Monday during the snowball fight and its aftermath, the guide knew how much Zlata and Waclaw adored and admired the elder Poles. The group, including the guards and the Princess, broke into sincere applause. Debora blushed, but curtsied elegantly.

As the ovation died down, Anna assessed the large frame of the triptych still hanging on the wall. "Should we look behind that one, too?" she mused. Her mind was percolating with new possibilities.

"I don't think there will be anything, Your Highness. The outer panels were made to close over the center piece, so Bosch and some other artists would decorate the back sides as well," Debora edified, while Vollan and Holt tried to carefully mount the panels back on the wall.

"Leave that for the maintenance crew, gents," Grimsen instructed. "It's probably easier to do with a ladder. Plus, the curator and Her Majesty might need to have a look at our little surprise bonus."

"This tour is definitely full of surprises," Newark said absently, and cast a glance at all the paintings lining the walls almost from floor to ceiling. He craned his neck to get a better view of the upper tiers.

"Speaking of full of surprises, here's a really neat way to look at the top rows," Anna said and hopped on one of the gallery's upholstered benches.

The guests watched in slack-jawed bewilderment as Her Highness sprang up in front of Fragonard's "The Swing" with much more height than she should have been able to attain naturally.

Stefanie and Grimsen shook their heads as Anna's second bounce launched her up to Rembrandt's "The Good Samaritan," to which the Princess gleefully gestured during her hang time. The visitors followed her trajectory with awestruck eyes.

"Queen Pippilotta had all the furniture in here specially built by a craftsman who made trampolines and other equipment for acrobatic troupes," Anna said offhandedly on the way back down.

Upon contact with the settee's enhanced cushions, Anna pumped her legs to give herself the kinetic energy necessary to reach the topmost painting, which happened to be an ancient -and admittedly crude- likeness of Bjørn the Berserk.

" _Hi_ there, King Bjørn," Anna quipped to the red-bearded, fierce-eyed man at the apex of her jump. She finished with a series of ever shorter rebounds before alighting from the couch with unanticipated agility. She beckoned to Adam and motioned for him to take a turn. "Go on, try it out!"

"Uh ... um ... well," Adam vacillated. Part of him wanted very much to have a go at it, but another part him knew he needed to get his parents' permission first and strongly suspected that it would not be forthcoming. He looked up uncertainly at his father.

Before John could answer, Grimsen cut in. "I'm sorry, but that's not allowed," the guard said politely but firmly. John and Irene were extremely relieved, and Adam nodded in understanding.

"Come on, sir. It'll be okay," Anna cajoled.

"I'm sorry, Princess, but when it comes to the protection of the royal family, the security of the castle and its assets and chattels, and the safety of the visitors -which Your Highness has already jeopardized once today- there are only three people who can hope to countermand me, and _you_ are _not_ one of them," Grimsen contended. "Queen Elsa has set the house rules for the guests for very good reasons."

Anna winced: Grimsen had every right to scold her, since he had just risked his own flesh and bones to prevent her from flattening the Scurr children, and Vollan was fortunate to get off as lightly as he did. She knew full well that Elsa had set the house rules for the guests for very good reasons, so that when a tour ended, the castle, the staff, and the guests were in the same condition as when the tour began.

She also knew that Elsa had set the new chain of command for very good reasons. After the Great Purge, the Queen had revised the kingdom's hierarchy, at least when it came to certain things. As much as Anna had been initially irate to find out that she presently didn't outrank officials like Admiral Sverdrup, Marshal Naess, Captain Grimsen, Chief Constable Johanssen, and even Minister Nilsson and a few other council members in matters of defense, governance, or finance, she had to admit Elsa had a valid rationale. Whatever else Anna could say about Grimsen and her relationship with him, _he_ would _not_ have let her ride off alone in search Elsa if he had been there on the night of the coronation ball, nor would he have submissively consented to her leaving a foreigner in charge of Arendelle.

It was just that, after the events on Monday, the Scurrs -along with the rest of this batch of researchers and their families- already felt like _friends_ and not merely sightseers. Naturally, that wouldn't make any difference to the captain of the guard. In fact, if she tried to explain herself, he would very likely point out that she had known them for less than a day, and she would be forced to agree that less than one day wasn't long enough to judge someone's character, although the odds of a nine-year-old and a seven-year-old turning out to be homicidal, deceitful would-be usurpers seemed rather slim.

"Of course, sir. It was inappropriate for me to ask the guests to do something against the rules," Anna said contritely.

Grimsen made no further issue of it, and nodded courteously to the Princess and the Scurrs, and then doffed his tall hat at Stefanie to get the tour back on track _again_.

"As Princess Anna showcased, we have 'The Swing' by Jean-Honoré Fragonard, and 'The Good Samaritan' by Rembrandt van Rijn," the guide continued. "And over here we have one of the morning views of Het Steen by Peter Paul Rubens, and next to it is 'The Mystical Nativity' by Sandro Botticelli. Below them is 'The Crocus Pickers' by a local artist."

The tour group studied the highlighted paintings, with the Dutch family murmuring amongst themselves about the Rembrandt and the Rubens, but in the end, everyone gravitated to "The Crocus Pickers." The sky and mountains in the background were beautifully executed, and the depiction of the stooping harvesters toiling in the sloped field of purple flowers captured the arduousness and urgency of their work.

"My back and knees ache from just looking at it," the Irishman said.

"Your local artist is quite gifted, and deserves to be more well-known," Debora appraised. "Are there any more in here by him ... or her?"

Stefanie smiled faintly. "We're not exactly sure who painted it, ma'am," the guide shrugged. "The castle receipts say only that King Håvard V bought four pictures by someone recorded as 'H. Olsen' for the very handsome price of 400 talers back in 1693. Unfortunately, Olsen is a common surname in Arendelle, nor can we exclude the possibility that this Olsen was from another Scandinavian country, or that it's a patronym instead of a hereditary family name. One of the other paintings from the set is in the castle's library, which is our next stop, but the other two are in the royal residence level, which is not open to the public."

"Oh," Debora said weakly, her disappointment clear.

"They're really good. I'll ask Elsa- I mean, Queen Elsa if we can switch them to down here sometime," Anna offered.

"That's very kind, Your Highness," Debora said gratefully.

"Oh, it's something we should do anyway. We're up to our ears in artwork, almost," Anna chuckled.

"I'll say, Your Highness. You have paintings by Giaimo, Lasseter, Del Vecho, Goldberg, Keene, Womersley, Schwab, Di Salvo, Bresee, Osmond, Smeed, Pierce, and Unten," Debora reeled off. "This place can hold its own in terms of quality and prestige against much bigger collections. And that's not including Queen Elsa's sculptures, which would be the pride and joy of other museums."

"Those things? At the rate that she makes them, we're going to end up needing to _pay_ people to take them, or else we really will be up to our ears in artwork," Anna teased. The other natives all smothered snorts of laughter.

"Her Majesty is that prolific?" the Dutch mother asked. "I would have thought those sculptures took a lot of effort in order to get that much detail."

"She can make millions of unique snowflakes with a wave of her hand. But she can ... unmake them all with another wave of her hand, so we _don't_ have to worry about being buried under a meter of ice sculptures. You'll see if you go to the magic show on Saturday. It really is phenomenal," Anna recommended. "There isn't anything like it anywhere else."

"And since storm season is setting in, it's one of the last ones she'll perform this year," Stefanie added. The visitors mulled that over.

"What if it rains?" Homberg wondered. "I've heard we're in for some wet weather through the next few days."

"Queen Elsa will just freeze the rain and keep it hanging in the air. She did that at our Spring Pageant earlier this year," Anna bragged. "She had to concentrate a little bit when it started to pour buckets, but watching her wrestle a storm -or at least the part of the storm that was over the town- actually became the main attraction." Elsa had been adorably embarrassed about upstaging the other entertainment, but the chance to see the Snow Queen "reign over rain," as Minister Haugen had hailed it, was too good to miss.

The tour group exchanged looks of astonishment.

"I'm almost hoping for inclement weather now," Newark said out of the corner of his mouth. The other researchers reflected silently.

"Well, since Princess Anna and Mrs. Mandelbaum have helped me show off the gallery, let's move on to the library, unless someone has a question," Stefanie put forward.

Although several people, including the Dutch family and the Irishman, looked like they could easily spend the entire morning in the gallery, the crowd moved toward the doors. Debora glanced back at the artwork as they reentered the hallway but otherwise left the room without a fuss.

Eliasz, Zlata, Waclaw, Irene, and John all smirked; Debora stuck her tongue out at them. "I am _definitely_ going on the one o'clock tour, too," she said adamantly.

"On the house, or rather the castle, Mrs. Mandelbaum," Anna insisted.

"By all means," Grimsen seconded.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Debora said, surprised.

"Hey, we owe you one. It's like you gave us another painting," Anna reasoned. "I mean, maybe our curator, Mr. Larsen, knew about those back panels, but he's never said anything about them to me."

"Or to me and the other tour guides," Stefanie chimed in.

"Perhaps it's because the less something so old is handled, the better," Debora posited. "Captain Grimsen was right to ask the other guards to not touch the painted surfaces, but that would be hard to do if they were being turned around on a regular basis."

"True, but I think we all know of someone who could conjure up a rig that would let the outer panels pivot without being directly touched," Sinibaldo noted dryly.

Anna's eyes widened. "That's right! She can make them float like soap bubbles!"

"That would make it a little too easy for someone to walk off with them, ma'am," Grimsen said and stole a peek at the Irishman.

"This is _Elsa_ \- I mean, _Queen Elsa_ we're talking about, Captain. She'll figure out a way to do it," Anna avowed. "More like ten ways to do it."

They stopped across from yet another set of double doors, and Grimsen produced a key, unlocked them, and held them open for the guests to go through. They surveyed the spacious, airy room, lined with bookshelves and cabinets.

"This library contains the largest collection of written Old Norse and Old Norwegian -which are still somewhat mutually intelligible with our contemporary local language- in the world," Stefanie narrated. "When the other Norsemen were only chiseling a few sentences on stones as monuments, we were producing scrolls and bound codices of history, literature, geography, foreign cultures, religion, and manuals on building and technology. Our oldest native books date from the tenth century."

Of course, the manuscript that told of the trolls and mentioned ice-magic and contained the map to the Valley of the Living Rock -among other things- was probably older than that, but the book's status had gone from being a quaint, overlooked relic to a highly classified state secret on the night of "the accident." It had been hidden away in Elsa's suite, where it still remained safely sequestered from public knowledge, and all data in the library's catalog that referred to it had been removed or modified when the gates were shut. Although Anna accepted that it was done to protect the trolls, she couldn't help seeing something cynically symbolic about the whole thing.

Stefanie opened a drawer on one of the cabinets, pulled out a pair of white gloves and put them on, and took one of the tomes down from a shelf. "For example, this is a volume of skaldic poetry composed during the reign of Bjørn the Berserk," she said, and held the book open to an illuminated page for the guests to view.

"The letters are all strange!" Beatrice gasped.

"Those are runes. We didn't use the Roman alphabet back then," Stefanie explained. "We didn't formally adopt our modern writing system until the Renaissance, and even now we sometimes use runes for carving inscriptions on stone or wood."

Newark leaned in for a closer look. "This seems similar to the old Anglo-Saxon script. _Feoh_ ... _æsc_ or maybe _āc_ ... _rād_ ... _mann_ ... _æsc_ or maybe _āc_ again ... _thorn_ ... _rād_ ... _farmathr_ ," the Myrcian deciphered.

The tourists and researchers turned to the Arendellians for their verdict. "You read runes almost as well as I do," Anna commended.

"Very impressive, sir," Stefanie complimented.

"Mind you, I have no idea what the word means," Newark admitted self-effacingly.

"Traveler, wayfarer," Holt translated.

"Hmm, so not very mutually intelligible with the old Anglo-Saxon language," Newark inferred.

"I think you would recognize certain words and some of the grammar, sir. For example, we call the first rune _fé_ , and it means 'wealth,' " Holt expounded.

"That's what _feoh_ means in Anglo-Saxon," Newark chuckled with delight.

"With a little logic, educated guesses, and perseverance, you would probably understand some basic Old Norse, sir, and not get too much of a headache," Holt said.

"The real headaches are the kennings in the poems, sir," Anna warned.

"Kennings?" Newark queried.

"They're figures of speech, or almost like riddles. Instead of using the word 'ship,' the skalds sometimes called it a 'sea-steed.' Or 'warrior' can be 'feeder of ravens.' Or 'waves' can be 'Ægir's daughters.' Or 'sky' can be 'Ymir's skull.' It's easy to get confused, especially when they use compound kennings," Anna elucidated.

"Anglo-Saxon poets did the same thing, although probably not to the same degree, Your Highness. I'm sure they were stylistically influenced by their northern kin and Viking overlords," Newark said. "One of our oldest and most famous Anglo-Saxon poems is set in Scandinavia, and the main character's name is itself a kenning."

" _Beowulf_?" Holt presumed. "Bee-wolf, which corresponds to 'bear.' "

"You're well read, sir. It's not often that someone from outside the Western Isles is familiar with our early literature - even if the subject matter isn't ours, per se," Newark remarked with a smile.

"There was a lot of downtime on guard duty when the gates were closed, and Her Majesty didn't mind if we quietly amused ourselves while we were on the clock, as long as we saw to it that no one disturbed her," Holt confessed wryly.

"I should have never retired. That girl may have been as hard-nosed as they come at trade deals, but was entirely too easy on you lay-abouts and bookworms," Grimsen grumbled good-naturedly.

Holt, Vollan, and some of the tourists chortled softly, but Anna squirmed slightly. In the early stage of Elsa's tenure, it hadn't been unusual to see the few castle employees reading, chatting, or playing cards or board games, which Anna had joined in from time to time; there had seemed to be an unspoken pact that the new monarch wouldn't bother the staff -or the rest of the populace, for that matter- if they didn't bother her. Her sister's aloof, impersonal approach to ruling hadn't exactly engendered a sense of loyalty among the employees who didn't know about her magical powers, and that had almost been her downfall. Karl Holt was one of the few guards whose behavior during the debacle of the Eternal Winter had been irreproachable (he had been in the search and rescue party that brought the crews stranded aboard the growing number of ships caught in Elsa's expanding ice sheet to the relative safety of land) but it had been shocking how many of his fellows had proved to be all too willing to disregard Arendelle's laws of succession and customary criminal justice procedures when commanded by a charming man-of-the-people.

"At least I stuck to reading tales of battle and heroism, sir," Holt said mock defensively. "It was the most action to be had, since I missed out on Her Highness' glory days."

"Kid, you wouldn't have lasted two weeks during Princess Anna's zenith," Grimsen immediately shot back. Stefanie and the tour group laughed into their hands.

"Hey! When did you two grumps turn into a comedy routine?" Anna protested. "Show the people another book, Stef- I mean, Miss Rask."

Stefanie rolled her eyes and shook her head, but fetched a step ladder from a corner, climbed it to retrieve five lavishly-bound volumes from a high shelf, and grinned as she walked them over to Homberg, and opened one. "Inspired by the work of Carl Linnæus, King Geir VIII commissioned an illustrated encyclopedia of the flora and fauna of Arendelle, the Agðir Mountains, and the Hardanger Plateau. Twenty-five sets of the first printing had hand-colored pictures," the guide said. "The royal family, naturally, received one of them."

"Oh, my ... I don't suppose they're available to be checked out," Homberg sighed.

"Nope. They get the white-glove treatment. I wasn't allowed to even take them down and look at them by myself until I was fourteen," Anna reminisced.

"However, the university's library has a black-and-white edition that you can peruse," Stefanie mentioned, and turned the pages to an entry she thought the naturalist and the children would enjoy.

"Sven!" Adam and Beatrice exclaimed happily.

"Well, not really. But it is one of his kind," Anna giggled.

"I didn't think reindeer were found this far south," Homberg said.

"The Hardanger Plateau is the southern limit of their range, sir, and is home to a large herd, in fact. The altitude makes the climate right for them and the plants they prefer to eat," Stefanie enlightened.

"Then that's another place on my must-visit list," Homberg judged. "Being able to see plants and animals native to the Arctic without needing to actually _go_ to the Arctic is not an opportunity to pass up."

Many of the regular tourists murmured amongst themselves, intrigued by the possibility.

"Making the trek requires an overnight stay in the backcountry, and proper shelter at all times of year," Stefanie cautioned. "There are a few public huts and privately operated roadhouses along the route, but they are first come, first served. While the right to roam here in Arendelle permits you to freely camp in uncultivated and uninhabited areas, hiring a guide who will outfit you with the necessary gear or make arrangements for you to stay at a local's house is _strongly_ advised. The staff at visitor information center in town next to the bank will be happy to help you plan a trip."

"Take it from me: It's way too dangerous without a guide and the right equipment and provisions," Anna emphasized.

"If you do head out on your own, please tell someone here in town that you're going, and contact them as soon as you return to let them know you're safe," Grimsen put in. "Our wilderness is unforgiving, especially if you're inexperienced at roughing it."

"I myself will definitely be using a guide, even though I'm a professional naturalist," Homberg reinforced. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that as beautiful as nature is, it does not care if you live or die."

"To give you some idea of the conditions you would encounter, over there is the other painting by H. Olsen, 'Pond on the Hardanger Plateau.' The whole region is above the tree line, and the weather can change for the worse in the blink of an eye. Not even the Sami live there year-round," Stefanie said and motioned to an austerely gorgeous landscape on canvas. The starkness of the moor, the rocky outcroppings, the glaciated mountains in the distance, and the clouds reflecting on the shallow pool were once again expertly done.

"That hardly looks like just the place for a spur-of-the-moment picnic outing. I can almost hear the wind - and the mosquitoes and midges. Olsen had a real talent for capturing the atmosphere," Debora marveled.

"The other two are also great. One is a view of old Arendelle town from the top of one of the cliffs, and the other is a country wedding party," Anna supplied. Both of them had been kept in the master royal suite from the time of their purchase, but those chambers had been unoccupied since her parents had ... been lost, and it seemed unlikely that anyone would be moving in soon, so they could be rotated down to the public areas of the castle where they could be seen by all. Like the family portrait to the right of Olsen's bleak scene had been.

"Is that you and Queen Elsa in this one here, Princess Anna?" the little Dutch boy asked once he noticed the other artwork.

The guests took in the painting of two young girls, one a platinum blonde and the other a strawberry blonde, standing back-to-back with their impassive faces turned toward the front; next to them stood a mustachioed man with ruddy hair and kind, earnest eyes and medals on his uniform; on the other side of him sat a slender woman with dark brown hair and sky-blue eyes wearing a modest blue dress and simple silver tiara.

"Yes," Anna laughed and then sighed. It was the last time they had all posed for a picture. "I was four years old. The only thing I really remember about it was wriggling around and making faces so much that the painter and my parents were losing their patience. But then Elsa- I mean, Queen Elsa ... well, she was Princess Elsa at the time ... whatever, my sister challenged me to a game that she called 'Statue:' the first one of us to move or make a sound would lose. She's a stinker." At any rate, she was pretty certain that's what had happened, because Elsa had been a "good girl" about not using her powers in the presence of outsiders, so that particular memory shouldn't have been tampered with.

Several hoots, squeaks, coughs, and choking sounds escaped from the tour group.

"Oooh, I'll have to try that one out on my boys," Vollan announced blithely.

"It's going to work only once or twice, and only if you offer a prize," Anna notified him.

"Did Your Highness win, at least?" the Irishman asked.

"No," Anna replied bluntly. "Elsa let me have the cookies anyway." She sighed again. Memories of Elsa being so caring and generous had been tormenting rather than sweet after her sister had abruptly and inexplicably turned so cold and distant.

"Pretty nice for a stinker," Papadopoulos weighed in.

"Okay, she's really not a stinker," Anna granted, "but she sure can seem that way until the big reveal. She has kinda needed help with the whole public image thing."

"But by now, most of us have figured out that Her Majesty will always come through in the end, even if her motivations and mechanics are sometimes not obvious," Grimsen upheld without indignation, and caught Anna's eye and subtly shook his head to dissuade her from continuing. The Queen did not want too many details about her childhood -particularly how severely her contact with other people had been limited, and Princess Anna's strange case of amnesia about her older sister's powers- made public. While he was one of the few people who knew that there had been "an accident" involving the young Crown Princess' ice magic and her sibling's head, he suspected he still didn't know the full story, just as there were parts of Princess Anna's account of her search for the Queen and return to Arendelle that didn't quite add up. Other people would likely question the inconsistencies and gaps with far more zeal.

"Don't worry, sir. I'm used to someone who also works in mysterious ways at times," Papadopoulos attested with a smile.

Grimsen laughed softly. "You win that round hands down, Father," the captain cheerfully conceded.

"See? Never complain or argue about anything in front of a priest or a nun," the Irishman reiterated, playfully wagging his index finger at Grimsen and the Princess.

The guard gave the garrulous guest another hard stare. "Do I know you from somewhere, sir?" Grimsen finally asked.

"I shouldn't think so, Captain. I've traveled a little bit, but I've never been to Arendelle or the other Nordic countries before," the Irishman said. "Unless you've been to Limerick, we've never crossed paths."

"Sorry, then. You just seem familiar, somehow," Grimsen explained.

"It's my manner, sir. I'm flippant and forward," the Irishman acknowledged, "so it just _feels_ like we must have met before. Don't pay me any mind."

Grimsen smiled mildly, and nodded to Stefanie to recommence. The guide returned the encyclopedia to its correct spot, and then pulled an oversized hardback off one of the lower shelves. She showed the group a large, annotated diagram of a notorious, nearly-symmetric ship.

"And these are the only known written construction plans for the vaunted longships and knörrs of the Viking era. They were committed to parchment after they were no longer in production because the designs were obsolete for raiding and trading, and the know-how for building them was passing from living memory," Stefanie related.

"People sailed across the North Atlantic to the New World in that? Where is the cabin?" the Dutch father asked incredulously.

"People were hardier back then," Stefanie said with a wave her hands.

"Or foolhardier," the Irishman wisecracked.

"They did have awnings and leather sleeping bags. Nonetheless, voyaging was very difficult for the crew, and long-distance trips were fraught with peril," Stefanie resumed. "These vessels were built for speed and maneuverability, not comfort and safety. Queen Hjørdis II had a replica longship based on these schematics built 'for the fun of it' back in the seventeenth century. It's in dry storage at our naval headquarters in Otruness."

"Also available for viewing for a nominal fee," Vollan put forward helpfully.

"Of course," John said under his breath. Irene suppressed a giggle. Many of the regular tourists once again murmured amongst themselves, intrigued by the possibility.

"And now, if you would, please follow me to the ball room," Stefanie enticed.

Anna rubbed her hands and shuffled her feet in anticipation. There were enough people present for a proper sock sliding tournament.

 **Author's Notes - "Clumsy Girl" is in the general style of "Stupid Girl" (written by Duke Erikson, Shirley Manson, Steve Marker, and Butch Vig, featuring a sample from The Clash's "Train in Vain").**

 **Jin Nong, and the Eight Eccentrics of Yangzhou, are a for-real group of Chinese artists. All of the other paintings except for the ones by "H. Olsen" are also for-real. The list of artists from Giaimo to Unten are a shout-out to "Frozen's" production crew and animators.**

 **The "Statue" game is a shout-out to a "Daria" episode in which Jane Lane babysits two kids and teaches them the "Cemetary" game.**

 **The real-life Hardanger Plateau does indeed have reindeer herds.**

 **There is a whole lot of "Chekov's Gun," "Chekov's Gunman," and "Chekov's Skill" going on here. Hint: Other paintings have something on their back sides, too.**


	39. Chapter 39

39\. Sock It To Them

On this gloomy day, the ball room's chandeliers were lit to supplement the dim natural light -which was not even enough to make shadows- let in by the upper windows. In the stillness, a light rain could be heard gently pattering on the panes. The rich browns of the woodwork glowed warmly, and the floor was perfectly smooth and well-polished. Long stretches of expertly joined boards and tall columns accentuated the proportions of the space. The alcoves tucked behind the pillars added an extra dimension of magnificence.

Anna had always thought the place positively begged for movement and spectacle: Dancing, running, skipping, sliding, jumping, rolling, throwing, swinging, grand entrances and exits, great performances. She didn't care what Grimsen was going to say. Sock sliding was the safest of her favorite childhood pastimes, and this was the safest expanse in which to sock slide. A person had enough area to reach top speed and still glide for several meters without any worries of colliding with anything. And it wasn't like she would force anyone to participate.

"Welcome to the Great Hall, as it is officially known," Stefanie said, spreading her arms wide. "Almost everybody calls it the ball room, but this is also where the monarchs of Arendelle hold open court, formally receive dignitaries, muster the castle staff, and succor and protect the people in times of emergency-"

"-And have sock sliding competitions," Anna interrupted mischievously.

The Princess kicked off her shoes and sprinted down one of the darker-stained stripes on the patterned floor. When she reached the fourth column, she locked her knees and ankles and let momentum take over. "Sock sliding is a great indoor activity for a drizzly day," she said nonchalantly as she coasted. "Come on, try it!"

Grimsen looked up at the ceiling in search of patience. Stefanie shook her head and prepared to accept the inevitable. The guests stared, but by now they all had ceased to be surprised by Her Highness' playful, informal manner. And, quite frankly, it _did_ seem like a great indoor activity for a drizzly day. The Irishman was the first to begin untying his shoelaces, followed by an unexpectedly eager Homberg.

His fellow researchers gave him quizzical looks. "I wanted to do something like that last night when we first walked in here for the reception," the naturalist confessed sheepishly.

" _Of course_ you did!" Anna encouraged. "The staff and the guards do it all the time - Elsa has _no_ problem with it. Even mother and father would sometimes dash in here and just let it rip. Didn't they, Captain?"

"Yes, Your Highness, they did," Grimsen answered with a sigh. Anna smiled smugly at him, and he cast a glance at the now-hopeful crowd. Arguing with the Princess and the guests over this would probably take longer simply than letting them have a go at it. "However, I would like to remind the tourists that in conjunction with receiving their travel permits, they agreed to release and indemnify certain Parties from liabilities that may arise during their sojourn in Arendelle." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small pamphlet, and read: "All participants acknowledge that engaging in this Activity is entirely voluntary; and that they assume all risks, which may include, among other things, muscle injuries and broken bones, as well as the risk of any negligence by other participants or by the Released Parties, and the risk of injury caused by the condition of any property, facilities, or equipment used during the Activity, and accept personal responsibility for any injury (including, but not limited to, personal injury, disability, dismemberment and death)-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Anna cut in as the visitors exchanged dismayed looks. "They're sock sliding on a wooden floor, not jumping off a cliff or swimming with alligators!"

"I'm just jogging everyone's memory because most people don't bother to truly read Queen Elsa's waiver before they sign it, ma'am," Grimsen maintained.

"That's because Queen Elsa's legalese gives most people a splitting headache," Anna tweaked. "She can read and write and listen to stuff like that all day with no trouble, but it makes almost everyone else go cross-eyed after a few sentences."

"Her Majesty is only trying to protect us, Your Highness," Grimsen stated stiffly.

"Oh, yeah. If Arendelle is ever attacked, Her Majesty will unleash a blizzard of paperwork in triplicate and an army of snow-lawyers to either scare off the enemies or stupefy them into submission. Then, she'll go on the counterattack and trick them into signing their lives away and their countries over to us. It's our secret weapon," Anna said sarcastically. The visitors, along with Vollan and Holt, laughed into their hands. Grimsen sighed again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you pull a muscle or twist an ankle, it's your problem, not ours, so please be careful and know your own limits," Stefanie said politely. "Fair enough?"

"Yes, ma'am," Homberg consented, and picked up his shoes and Anna's and deposited them against a wall. "We shouldn't have any mishaps if we keep the footwear out of the way and stay in our lanes."

Zlata and Waclaw grinned at each other, took their shoes off, and lined up with the Princess, the Irishman, and Homberg. The Dutch mother caught the eyes of her husband and son, and they followed suit. In short order, all of the children and nearly half of the adults -including Debora, Newark, John, Irene, and Papadopoulos- had arranged themselves in a row and awaited the go-ahead.

"Okay, when you reach the fourth column, stop running and start sliding. We'll do that a few times, so you can get the hang of it. And then we'll do one to see how far you can slide," Anna instructed. "On the count of three. Get set. One, two, three, _go_!"

The participants charged off, some faster than others. Waclaw arrived at the appointed column first, with Zlata not too far behind him. They burst into giggles as they slid, which proved to be contagious, and the rest of the group laughed and whooped. Even Grimsen had to chuckle at the scene.

"Whee!" Anna exclaimed. "You all are naturals at this! You should definitely stop by the skating rink at the Harvest Festival! Ready for another round?"

The guests nodded enthusiastically, and a few who had held back from the first run joined in. "It's a kind of physics experiment," Sinibaldo rationalized as he removed his shoes.

"On the count of three again. On your marks," Anna marshaled. "One, two, three, _go_!"

They bolted again, and this time the Irishman, Homberg, and Newark presented a serious challenge to Waclaw, but the young Pole still passed the fourth column first. Zlata retained her standing as the fastest woman, coming in two steps ahead of Anna. And once again, everyone made sounds of merriment and delight as they slid.

"You all are doing great! Nobody has lost their balance - or a limb!" Anna said drolly. "For this next one, let's hold our positions when we finish sliding, so we can see the results of the physics experiment." The Princess curtsied to Sinibaldo, who bowed with a jocular flourish. "Ready? One, two, three, _go_!"

Everyone raced off, with Waclaw, the Irishman, Homberg, Newark, Zlata, and Anna taking the lead again, pursued in earnest by the rest of the pack; Sinibaldo produced a surprising burst of speed to nearly catch up with the front-runners. Everyone was silent this time as the sliding stage was entered, as though any noise or excess motion would affect the outcome. Waclaw's face was a portrait of utter determination ... which swiftly turned to one of mild peevishness when he saw that Sinibaldo had won by a nose-length.

"I simply have more mass than you do, my dear fellow," the Lombard said jovially and patted his pudgy stomach, "and therefore more inertia."

"I want a do-over," Waclaw said with feigned pique. "I'm pretty sure I can run faster."

"Don't pout. Nobody likes a sore loser," Zlata teased. Waclaw stuck his tongue out at her.

"That was a good race, one of the best we've ever had!" Anna praised, genuinely unperturbed about finishing second in the women's division.

"Who holds the record for the longest slide?" Zlata asked.

"Take a wild guess," Anna said with faux exasperation.

"Must be Queen Elsa," Newark chortled.

"She cheats. She cheats _sooo_ bad," Anna affectionately accused. "Her ice-fabric socks are ultra-low-friction."

"So make her wear normal socks," Sinibaldo suggested.

"Oh, we have, but it also turns out that my sister is really fast," Anna told him. "As in, _impossibly_ fast. Ask them." She tossed her head in the guards' direction.

"Her Majesty's sprinting speed is phenomenal, and her endurance must be magically enhanced. I don't think anyone in the world could keep up with her after four hundred meters, especially if it involves going uphill or up stairs," Vollan vouched. Holt nodded in agreement.

The researchers shared meaningful looks as another aspect of the Snow Queen's magic was uncovered.

"Queen Elsa has trained intensively since childhood, and she still has a fairly rigorous calisthenics program. So, while some of her abilities are ... magically enhanced, she _has_ put in some old-fashioned hard work," Grimsen elucidated. "Have you all had enough sock sliding for now?"

"Maybe," Anna said breezily. "Or maybe we need a rigorous calisthenics program, too."

"You know, Your Highness, I have a class at one o'clock," Stefanie prodded. "And our guests might have other items on their schedules."

Anna's eyes went wide. "Right! Sorry!" she blurted. "I've been incredibly rude!"

"It's all right, Princess," Papadopoulos reassured her. "I suspect most of us think you're magically enhancing the tour." The visitors, guards, and guide laughed; Anna blushed slightly.

"I'll try to be helpful instead of disruptive from now on," Anna humbly pledged. "So, on with the show, Miss Rask."

Stefanie smiled fondly at her good-natured friend and picked up where she left off: "As I was saying, this is where the monarchs of Arendelle hold open court, formally receive dignitaries, muster the castle staff, succor and protect the people in times of emergency ... hold sock sliding competitions ... and of course, sometimes stage concerts, recitals, and theatrical productions. Over here in this recess is the castle's largest pianoforte." She lead everyone over to the instrument. "There are three others, along with three harpsichords and two clavichords."

"We also have a few Hardanger fiddles, regular violins, violas, cellos, a double bass, drums, harps, lutes, guitars, flutes, clarinets, oboes, a bassoon, trumpets, bugles, horns, trombones, some old viols and sackbuts, and a birthday _bukkehorn_ ," Anna contributed.

"Quite the collection. Was there ever a court orchestra?" Debora asked.

"Not in the sense of people employed solely to play music, ma'am, but it wasn't uncommon for some of the royal family, staff, guests and associates to get together for a session," Stefanie replied.

"We also have _a lot_ of sheet music," Anna put in. "I think we have just about everything that Bach, Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven wrote."

"Ah, golden oldies," the Irishman said.

"Any home-grown composers?" Debora inquired.

"No one famous outside of Arendelle," Anna shrugged. "We mostly stick to short songs, dance tunes, patriotic anthems and some hymns. Nobody has written, like, a piano sonata or a symphony or an opera."

"I'm still curious to hear more of the locals' output," Debora insisted. "You Arendellians are a musical bunch."

"Oh, you'll hear a lot at the Harvest Festival; I'll introduce you to some of the musicians. And I can teach you a few things later, and show you what we have in the castle library," Anna offered.

"I'd be thrilled, Your Highness," Debora beamed.

"It's my pleasure. Music lessons were my favorite. Way more fun than all that trade deal and tariff gobbledygook that Elsa had to learn. I guess being 'the spare' had its advantages," Anna reflected and cast a pensive look at the rather modest, high-backed wooden chair that was situated against a wall on a dais. The tour group followed her gaze.

Stefanie gestured to the seat's stylized carvings and purple and green upholstering. "The Crocus Throne," the guide intoned solemnly.

The researchers shared puzzled glances. They had seen the chair at Monday night's reception, but had no idea it was _the throne_.

"It's not very fancy, now is it?" the Irishman observed. "Doesn't even have a cup holder."

"After everything else, I was expecting something a little more flamboyant," the Dutch father admitted. "At least some gold leaf on the crocus."

"It looks uncomfortable," Sinibaldo assessed.

"Yeah, even the cushions aren't that soft. You're not gonna just doze off in that," Anna confirmed. "And I think that's the point."

"The design is still based on the old Sea Eagle Throne, which was reworked to make the first Crocus Throne," Stefanie imparted. "King Erik the Good wanted it to serve as a reminder of harder times, so that we shouldn't become too conceited and complacent."

"Has Arendelle ever had a _bad_ king or queen?" Papadopoulos asked with a chuckle.

"Oh, from a foreign perspective many of our early kings were brigands. And some were dissolute by modern standards, or at least wastrels," Stefanie explained. "Our worst king in domestic opinion was Bjørn the Berserk."

"What did he do?" Eliasz warily wondered.

"Aside from hewing friend and foe alike when his frenzy was upon him during a raid, he was also prone to bullying our people to extract more taxes and tribute. And then, when he managed to reach the ripe old age of forty-two, he feared that he might not die in battle and therefore fail to go to Valhalla or Fólkvangr. So he asked his elder son, Prince Hróaldr, to help him 'end his life in glorious combat,' to quote the saga," Stefanie expounded.

"He asked his own son to kill him?" John interjected incredulously.

"In effect, sir, although not necessarily deliver the death stroke itself," Stefanie said. "King Bjørn and Prince Hróaldr each rallied a band of one hundred warriors, including ten shield-maidens, and then the two sides met on a field in the vicinity of Sundaleiðr, in the eastern part of Arendelle, and fought each other with the specific goal of giving the king an honorable death."

Astonishment once again pulsed through the tour group.

"That's... that's..." John stumbled.

" _Crazy_ ," chorused Anna, Stefanie, Grimsen, Vollan, and Holt.

After a few beats of silence, the visitors laughed nervously.

"How did it, uh, turn out?" Eliasz ventured.

"Only seventeen people survived the carnage, and those were simply because they had been debilitated somehow or other early in the fray, and it was subsequently considered shameful to engage them since they could no longer fight properly. King Bjørn reportedly killed twenty-nine people, some of whom were his own soldiers that were unfortunate enough to get in his way, before he was finally slain either by Rikuláta Úlfrekrsdatter, a shield-maiden, or Skagi Ballungrssen, a commoner. No one is quite sure who dealt the true _coup de grâce_ , since the melee was very chaotic, and both Rikuláta and Skagi also succumbed to their wounds not long afterward. In addition, Prince Hróaldr met his demise, along with several nobles from other countries, including a prince from Burgundaholmr and a prince from Gautland," Stefanie narrated. The crowd gasped.

"Er, with the king and the heir apparent dead on the same day, who was in charge of Arendelle then?" Newark posed.

"Queen Alva, Bjørn's widow, was regent, because the two claimants -Prince Jóarr, Bjørn's younger son; and Prince Fastaðr, Hróaldr's son- were still children, aged thirteen and two, respectively. Fastaðr's claim was dismissed because most eyewitnesses said that Prince Hróaldr died before King Bjørn did. The issue eventually became immaterial anyway when little Fastaðr became ill and died before the year was over. Queen Alva ruled Arendelle for eight years until Prince Jóarr turned twenty-one, when she hoped he would be 'old enough to not act like a fool,' to quote the saga. And so, the precedent for our minimum age to be crowned was set," Stefanie recounted.

After another few beats of silence, the visitors laughed nervously again.

"A wise woman," Irene quipped.

"Yes, indeed, ma'am," Stefanie concurred. "Even though she was technically only a consort and regent, she was honored with her own saga, and within a generation came to be counted as a genuine monarch of Arendelle - our first reigning queen. She had done much of the governing even before King Bjørn's death. Like many men here during the Viking era, King Bjørn was rarely home between the spring and autumn equinoxes, and left Queen Alva to run the country, just as the other men left their womenfolk to manage the farms, attend to commerce and industry, and hunt and fish."

"No wonder Arendelle is so advanced and prosperous: With the men out of the way for half the year, I bet the women got a lot accomplished," the Dutch mother joshed. Her husband harrumphed.

After another interlude of silence, the visitors laughed nervously once more.

"I'm sure such a division of labor had its benefits, but if most of the men were away for months, didn't that leave Arendelle vulnerable to an attack?" Newark queried.

"Our borders with Norway were garrisoned, sir. We had several strategic look-outs for approaches from the sea, and there are only a few places along our coastline where a ship can be beached, so taking us by surprise was difficult to do. And once any invaders arrived, they quickly found out that our women and children were not helpless," Stefanie avowed. "As you may have seen in King Egil's tapestry, everyone in Arendelle was prepared to take part in our country's defense. During Queen Alva's regency, there were some marauders from Skåne that thought they would have easy pickings. Instead, they were ambushed with volleys of arrows, large stones, and flaming bedrolls; we enslaved those that survived. When one of the prisoners dared to deride 'the cowardly tactics of a woman,' Queen Alva clouted his buttocks with the flat side of an axe head so hard that he never walked with ease or sat comfortably again. She kept him as a thrall to work in the royal stables."

"Broke his tailbone, then his spirit," Holt commentated, and pumped his fist again.

Beatrice cast a glance over her shoulder at her own posterior, and then looked up at her father. "Do we have tailbones?" she asked with innocent curiosity.

"Um, yes and no. I'll explain later," John deferred. "But we certainly have pelvic bones. Queen Alva possibly fractured one of those, along with his coccyx. That was a mighty spanking."

"Queen Alva was married to King Bjørn for twenty-three years. She was obviously tough, and as a young girl likely had been taught some martial skills by her family. And she probably learned a thing or two from watching Bjørn about how to swing an axe or sword for maximum effectiveness," Stefanie pointed out.

"So the myth of the valkyries and folklore about warrior women among the Vikings have a basis in reality," Newark posited.

"Absolutely!" Anna asserted brightly. "My father taught me swords _woman_ ship." She assumed a classic _en garde_ stance with an imaginary saber and made a passable attacking lunge at nothing. "And my mother taught me archery." The Princess thrust her left arm forward and mimed pulling back a make-believe bowstring and releasing the cord with her right hand. "And I can throw a flaming bedroll, rock pick, and right hook with the best of them." She punched the air with authority and smiled impishly, remembering the satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage when she rearranged her ex-fiancé's face. She hoped that the despicable fiend never sneezed or blew his nose comfortably again.

"Um, more like: Yes and no, sir," Stefanie amended with a grin at Anna's high-spiritedness. "While we have a strong tradition of women protecting themselves, their families, and our homeland whenever necessary, female professional warriors were quite rare. The women who fought in the Battle of Sundaleiðr were very much the exception, and probably participated solely to invoke the valkyries. There are only a few tales that mention women being members of raiding parties, and almost all of those involved desperate circumstances in the woman's life rather than simply a bellicose spirit."

"I see. But such activities weren't explicitly prohibited, either culturally or legally?" Newark asked.

"No, sir, not here in Arendelle. Even during the time of many petty kingdoms, our women enjoyed civil rights that were nearly equal with those of our men. Women were taught to read and write in our language and Disnee, could own and inherit property, could hold clan leadership positions if their fathers or brothers left no male heirs, could work outside the home, could borrow money, could keep and bear arms, could testify as witnesses at trials, could speak at assemblies, could conduct certain religious ceremonies, could divorce their husbands at will, and could remarry with impunity," Stefanie related.

The adult women in the tour group all blinked, and some of the more perceptive girls were also impressed. The men exchanged looks of astonishment.

"That's quite progressive, even by today's standards," the Dutch mother said.

"Our general social hierarchy was never as oppressive and rigid as the feudalism in other lands, ma'am. Arendelle simply didn't have the resources to support a large servile class _or_ a proper aristocratic class besides the royal family," Stefanie noted.

"I suppose that means there are no estates outside of town," the Irishman presumed, sounding somewhat disappointed. "No manor houses or chateaus?"

"Well, we have the royal lodge. It's comfortable, but it's pretty plain. It's really just a big cabin," Anna said. "The setting is gorgeous, though."

"The royal lodge needs no other artwork except the views from its windows," Grimsen affirmed, giving the Irishman another hard stare.

"No doubt, sir. I was just wondering if there were any other stately homes in Arendelle that welcome the public. Most of us commoners are kept at arm's length by most nobles, so this kind of hospitality is a novelty for me," the Irishman justified himself.

"Understood, sir," Stefanie assuaged. "But the royal family's other holdings, apart from Queen Elsa's Ice Palace, are utilitarian in nature."

"Boring stuff that no one would want to see. Farms, a few types of mills, crocus processing facilities, warehouses, smokehouses, a foundry, a shipyard, military stations, a bank, mines, forests," Anna supplied.

"Ah, cottage industries," the Irishman joked. Grimsen had to laugh along with everyone else.

"Actually, some of those sound quite interesting," Newark said. "But I suspect no outsider gets anywhere near the crocus processors, the foundry, or the shipyard."

"Or the textile mills, sawmills, and some of the mines, either," Grimsen smirked.

"Trust me, there is nothing super-secret going on," Anna claimed dismissively. She paused, remembering some of the conversation she had with Elsa the night before, and added more cautiously: "I think."

"A resounding endorsement of Arendelle's transparency," Stefanie wisecracked. While everyone else guffawed, Anna tried to glare at the guide, but quickly lost the battle to contain her own laughter.

"Hey, they _can_ see the castle kitchen," Anna said, knowing the tour's itinerary. "That's where the really serious business goes on."

"Do we get any free samples?" the Irishman bantered.

"At the end of the tour, sir," Stefanie disclosed. The visitors shared intrigued looks; the children were all especially excited.

"Maybe we can see them being made," Anna smiled. "Come on!" She strode purposefully toward the double doors. The tour group did not need any further prompting.

It was only a short walk to the kitchen's main entryway. "Please don't touch anything unless the staff gives you permission," Grimsen ordered politely as Holt and Vollan opened the doors to expose a veritable culinary wonderland.

There were multiple cast iron stoves, three large hearths, several sinks, and a plethora of tables, cupboards, counters, carts, racks, and bins. A set of cabinets made from ice lined a wall. A cadre of cooks, assistants, and dishwashers, all wearing aprons and thin gloves made from ice-fabric, bustled diligently at their tasks, but took the time to wave or nod friendly greetings to the company. The guests instinctively sniffed the air, and watched with great curiosity as a short, plump man removed a rectangular, shallow pan containing a deep brown cake from an oven and set it on a rack to cool.

"Oooh, chocolate roulade!" Anna cooed, instantly recognizing the soufflé base. "My favorite!"

"It is for Queen Elsa," the short, plump man responded with a faint Hungarian accent and a surprising sharpness to his tone. "To make amends for yesterday evening." He grabbed a utensil -a cross between a spoon and a spatula- that had obviously been made by his employer, and began creaming softened butter, sugar, and honey together with a vigorousness that conveyed a state of inner agitation.

Anna winced. Naturally, her accomplices in the cake caper would be worried about their futures on the royal payroll. "I talked with her last night, Balász. She's not really angry. It will be okay," Anna consoled him.

"I would still like Her Majesty to be in the best possible mood at the meeting after lunch," Balász contended as he reached for a bowl that held reserved egg yolks, and gradually incorporated them into the butter, sugar, and honey combination.

The chef retrieved two more whole eggs from a nearby basket and cracked them into his project, then fetched a storage canister from a cupboard. He pried off the snug-fitting lid to reveal the red threads of boreal saffron. Balász added a generous crushed pinch of Arendelle's famous spice and mixed well.

"That's food-grade boreal saffron, grown down here in local gardens and flower boxes," Stefanie reported. "It's been used in this butter cookie recipe for centuries."

The dough came together in a lovely golden yellow ball as Balász sifted in flour and a small amount salt, and stirred thoroughly. The spoon-spatula's amazingly flexible, slightly concave, fine-edged head scraped every last bit from the bowl onto a piece of paper with a waxy-looking coating. He wrapped it up tightly and took the bundle over to one of the ice-cabinets. He put it in, and removed a similar one that had been prepared earlier and was now chilled. The chef proceeded to flatten it out evenly by expert application of a rolling pin. Many of the women in the tour group murmured in admiration of his skill.

After a few more passes, the dough was at the desired thinness, and Balász grabbed a crocus-shaped cookie cutter, and pressed out a sequence of cookies with very little waste, gathering the trimmings to free-form a few whimsical figures. A helper carefully arranged the cookies on baking sheets and popped them in another oven. She checked the clock on the wall.

"While I applaud your technique, sir, there isn't even a smidgen to lick out of the bowl or a scrap to filch from the counter. It's too efficient for my taste," the Irishman critiqued. Grimsen rolled his eyes.

"How does the ice-spatula manage to be pliable?" Eliasz questioned.

"While not being floppy?" Waclaw appended.

"The same way that our aprons don't get stained, nothing sticks to the ice-paper, and our gloves protect us from cuts, burns, and dishpan hands without being bulky. It's just magic," announced a cook tending to a series of chickens roasting on a spit in one of the hearths. As a demonstration, he held his gloved hand over the tops of the dancing flames with no ill effect to either his extremity or the ice-fabric. "You'd have to ask Her Majesty how exactly she does it."

The researchers once again shared meaningful looks. "I begin to understand what the master smith meant when he said that Queen Elsa made working in the foundry safer and more comfortable," Newark muttered in a quiet aside. John and Papadopoulos nodded.

"Can I get a spatula like that?" the Dutch mother asked. "Or the gloves?"

"No to the gloves, but yes to the spatula," Stefanie said. "It's available at the Royal Gift Shop."

"We'll probably have some, along with other things, for sale at a booth at the Harvest Festival, too," Anna plugged.

"Why aren't the gloves for sale?" Irene asked in puzzlement.

"Her Majesty deems their properties to be too tempting to misuse or abuse," Grimsen explained.

"We can't even take them home with us; they have to stay in the kitchen," attested the cook tending to the chickens. "Sometimes, we forget to take them off before we leave the room, and they do the same vanishing act as her snow and ice. Poof - they disappear right off our hands."

"Does it feel weird?" Adam asked, eyes wide.

The kitchen staff all chuckled. "Not really. The light and sparkle take us by surprise, but it doesn't tingle. They're just suddenly not there anymore," Balász said.

"How do you get new ones?" the little Dutch boy posed.

"Oh, there's a whole drawer full of them. If we start to run out of someone's size, we simply let Her Majesty know. She stops by and twiddles her fingers. Poof - more appear on the counter," the cook tending to the chickens described.

"Such a useful queen. Does she make ice cream, too?" the Irishman asked facetiously.

"Yup. She may have problems boiling water, but making ice cream is a snap for her," Anna granted in all seriousness. "So are milkshakes, snow cones, and slushies. If the weather isn't too cold, we'll sell some at a booth at the Harvest Festival, too." The tourists blinked in unison.

"Milkshakes? Snow cones? Slushies?" Debora asked, at a loss.

"Oh, right, you aren't from Arendelle. So ... a milkshake is ice cream and milk -or sometimes fruit syrups or coffee or caramel or chocolate sauce- blended together. A snow cone is really fine, powdery snow with a fruit syrup or cream sauce -or both- poured on it. A slushie is when Elsa halfway freezes a fruit syrup, sweet tea, or coffee so that the ice is really small-grained and there's just enough liquid for it to flow through a straw," Anna enlightened. The tourists blinked in unison again.

"Queen Elsa does have a confusing set of powers: Snow blasting, dress making, castle building, sculpting, scientific equipment fabrication, and creating life and frozen refreshments," Homberg said dryly.

"It's _really_ easy to accept the frozen refreshments part," Holt laughed.

"It's been only a little over a year since we've known about her magic, and already it's simply not a proper birthday party without an ice cream cake," Vollan substantiated, grinning broadly.

"Ice cream cake?" Debora asked.

"It's really just cake and ice cream, except the ice cream is layered inside the cake," Anna said. "It looks really elaborate, though, especially when it has multiple layers in each tier."

"Who knew that Arendelle was now also a hotbed -or maybe that should be a deep freezer- of culinary innovation," Sinibaldo jested.

"Makes me want to come back in the summertime," the Dutch father mused.

"Of course," Irene said under her breath. John smothered a smirk.

"I know at least Corona, Spain, and some businessmen from the United States are trying to set up trade deals for snow cone kits and slushie packs," Anna divulged, "but Elsa says she needs to do more research. Not sure about what. But maybe in a year or two everyone will be able to enjoy some cool treats without leaving home." The tourists blinked in unison once more.

"Mundane but very intriguing," Papadopoulos evaluated with a smile.

"Speaking of treats..." Balász said and checked on the cookies in the oven.

Their edges were a perfect golden brown, and so he removed them from the heat, and quickly lifted each one off the hot baking sheet with a steel turner, setting them down on a flat wire grill. The children and many of the adults fidgeted expectantly.

"They must cool _completely_ , otherwise they will fall apart," Balász warned.

"I don't have a problem with that, sir, and won't hold it against you," the Irishman winked.

"Cooling is an integral part of baking," Balász persisted. "If they were better warm, we would serve them to you that way."

"These really are better when they crisp up," Anna said. "And the flavor of the saffron comes through more when they cool off. Please be patient."

The tour group nodded deferentially, but remained focused on the cookies, resolutely refusing to budge. "There's only one person who can make stuff cool off just by looking at it, but she's not here right now," Anna ribbed. Everyone laughed. "Come on, there's more to see."

The Princess skipped over to one of the ice-cabinets, took out two bunches of carrots, and used them to gleefully beckon the visitors to follow her.

 **Author's Notes - The duties of Real Life are _such_ a bother, but hopefully I have a lot of them beaten back again.**

 **The indemnity mumbo-jumbo is lifted from an actual Disney liability waiver form (for an activity that is much more risky than sock sliding). I imagine Elsa to be on-guard against lawsuits. Recall the Duke of Weselton's parting appearance: "I've been traumatized. Ow! My neck hurts. Is there a doctor I could... No?" The researchers will get another reminder before and during the magic lab.**

 **Elsa's speed and endurance will be discussed more later. Her however-many meter dash over the fjord (in clothes not conducive to sprinting) is amazing, and reaching the North Mountain before sunrise (in a Scandinavian summer) through the terrain she obviously had to cross is superhuman. Just setting up for the final chase scene in the mountains.**

 **Arendelle's Battle of Sundaleiðr is based on the "real legend" of the Battle of Brávellir, in which Harald Wartooth (yes, really!) feared he might die of old age and therefore not make it to Valhalla, so he asked his subordinates to stage a battle for him to die in. It's all there in Wikipedia. Just setting up the final battle so that there will be some anxiety (at least from the characters' point of view) that Elsa is going to slay "friend" and "foe" alike when her fury is upon her, that Elsa has become a "force of nature" that destroys indiscriminantly. When the white horse is charging toward the "fiery" red horse, the black horse, and the _khloros_ (zombie) horse, there is going to be enough "end of the world" symbols from many belief systems to make everyone genuinely afraid that there will not be a happy ending.**

 **Arendelle's civil rights for women are based on many of the rights that Viking women did enjoy.**

 **Elsa's power to make frozen refreshments is one part obvious "Mundane Ability" and one part shout-out to her cameo in "Ralph Breaks the Internet," in which she casually conjures a milkshake-looking beverage for herself. Non-canon, of course, and probably a tip-of-the-hat to Idina Menzel's joke that Elsa could make soy ice cream to feed herself after she ran away from civilization. My version of Elsa can make water-ice that has the consistency and color of a milkshake, but lacks the protein, fat, sugars, minerals, vitamins, etc. of milk. She can manipulate the naturally occurring water that's in milk, fruit/vegetables, meat (scary!), etc, but she can't create any chemical compound except for good-old H2O.**

 **Homberg's "confusing set of powers" comment is a shout-out to Screen Junkies' Totally Honest Trailer for "Frozen."**

 **Next stop: Royal Stables!**


	40. Chapter 40

40\. Stable Personalities

After bidding farewell to the kitchen staff -and casting one last look of longing at the crocus cookies- the tourists were ushered to one of the castle's service entrances. The finishes of the surfaces in the hallway and the threshold were less elegant and more durable than what was seen in the rest of the castle. Centuries worth of comings and goings had worn down the middle of the stone doorstep, and the paint on the door jamb was not nearly as immaculate as it was on the others they had passed through. This was clearly a place where the royal residence rolled up its sleeves and got to work.

The guard stationed outside on the portico next to the doors nodded attentively to the group as they passed by his post. Stefanie paused, held her hand out from under the porch's roof in order to gauge the precipitation, and peered at the clouds.

"I think we'll be fine if we don't dawdle," the guide decided. "The cobblestones are wet, so please mind your footing." She offered a supportive arm to one of the elderly guests as they navigated the steps down to the courtyard. The rest of the Arendellians did the same for the other customers who might be unsteady on the damp pavers.

Although the cold rain was so light at the moment that it was more akin to a dense mist, the wind had a fierce bite, so the group had enough incentive to hurry to the shelter of a covered walkway that rimmed the courtyard's outer bulwark. They passed a path that lead to a park-like area with grass, bushes, trees, a few boulders, and a small pond.

"Normally, you'd get to see our garden up close, but even the geese are battened down today," Anna said and waved to her old avian friends who were squatting in the lee of a bush near the edge of the pond. The birds honked in recognition, but didn't move from their refuge.

"It's surprising that they haven't migrated yet," Homberg remarked.

"Soon," Anna sighed. "Late October or early November. We make sure to put out plenty of food for them during these last few weeks, so they'll be really strong for the journey. I wish they wouldn't go, though. When I was a little girl, I tried to convince them that they could stay in one of the stalls during the winter, and we would take good care of them and let them out to wander free whenever they wanted, but they still flew away."

"You can talk to animals?" Adam asked in awe.

"Of course she can. She's a _princess_ ," Beatrice told her brother with a touch of condescension. Many of the adults, including the guards, failed to suppress snorts of laughter.

John gently tapped his daughter's shoulder to get her attention. "Have care with your tone, Miss Scurr," the doctor quietly rebuked. Beatrice nodded, abashed.

"Actually, I don't really have a special ability to talk to animals," Anna admitted. "I mean, I love them, and I can usually make friends with them pretty easily, and _sometimes_ I think they understand what I'm saying, but that seems to depend more on the animal and the situation than anything else. For instance, my horse dumped me and ran off the moment he got startled by a tree branch snapping, and wouldn't come back even though I asked him to. And there have been so many creatures that do _not_ cooperate when I'm trying to help them get out of trouble." That included her own sister, who certainly could not claim the excuse of not comprehending human speech.

"Animals' natural instincts are a very powerful force, Your Highness," Homberg said. "It's very easy for them to misinterpret attempts to help them as acts of aggression. Self-preservation behaviors are very difficult, if not impossible, to resist, no matter what kind of animal we're talking about, and that includes humans."

A sudden gust of wind swirled through the courtyard, and Anna shivered slightly. The naturalist's words hit too close to her own private thoughts and part of the previous night's conversation with Elsa. "So I've gathered, but it's still frustrating. I wish they could all be as smart and well-adjusted as Sven," she brooded. Of course, Sven had the benefit of first being hand-raised by Kristoff and then growing up among the trolls, who probably _could_ truly communicate with animals, as opposed to being left to fend for himself in an uncaring world, or being caged and treated like a dangerous beast for most of his life. She shivered again, this time more conspicuously.

"You probably should have stopped to get a coat or cloak, Your Highness. It's a little cold for just a blouse and vest," Homberg noted with concern.

"This is nothing," Anna said a tad too dismissively.

Grimsen unbuttoned his uniform jacket, slipped it off, and held it out to Anna. "Here. Put this on, Princess," the captain offered.

"I'll be fine," Anna maintained.

"Please humor Old Grim-Face, Princess," Grimsen coaxed.

"Yes, please humor us, Your Highness," John seconded. The rest of the group, locals and foreigners alike, expressed their backing of the suggestion.

"We don't have that much farther to go, and Kris- the Ice Master usually keeps an extra pullover or two in Sven's stall, so I can put one of those on ... _if_ I feel cold," Anna countered.

"The rare strawberry-headed princess, although gregarious and savvy within the setting of her species' native climate, can be stubbornly uncooperative once the temperature drops," Homberg lectured wryly, giving a tongue-in-cheek natural history exposition.

Anna pursed her lips and focused on the paddock up ahead. Grimsen gave Homberg a hard stare before bursting into laughter, with the rest of the group, locals and foreigners alike, quickly joining in.

"Okay, sure, whatever," Anna said curtly, decidedly not amused at being likened -deservedly or not- to a recalcitrant gosling. She took the guard's jacket, juggled the carrots, and shoved her arms through the sleeves. It was too big for her ... but it did block the wind and was still warm from Old Grim-Face's body heat. "But now _you're_ cold."

"I have on a nice bottom layer, ma'am," Grimsen replied. "Once we reach the stable, I'll take the jacket back, and you can wear the Ice Master's spare sweater."

"I _knew_ that you really do have a soft spot for her, Captain," the Irishman indicted blithely.

"She's not so bad, once you get used to her quirks," Grimsen teased, eliciting a trace of a smile from Anna.

Stefanie lead her charges to the right of the grassy corral and stopped at a row of gaily-painted Dutch doors. "Please don't make any loud noises or sudden movements," the guide requested. "They are probably napping." She knocked softly on one of the doors. "Sven? Are you awake? You have company."

There was no response. Stefanie raised her hand to knock again, but Anna silently checked her. The Princess singled out a carrot, placed its tip firmly between her molars, and broke off the skinny end. The action was barely audible to the human ears on the outside of the doors, but it must have reverberated like a dinner gong for the quadrupeds within the stalls, because the reindeer and the horses all immediately pushed their top doors open with their alert, eager heads.

"Gets 'em every time," Anna chortled. She held the carrot tip out for Sven, who chomped it down with gusto and a grateful waggle of his ears, and gave the stem end to her own mount, Geisli. She distributed the remainder of the carrots to the tourists, who took great delight in feeding the sturdy, amiable steeds.

Anna took the opportunity to rummage through Sven's stall in search of Kristoff's outerwear. She found a woolen pullover, and gave Grimsen his jacket back. She donned the fur-trimmed sweater, which was hopelessly too large for her, but at least it was clean. The tour group politely refrained from openly giggling at the comical figure she made, with the shoulders of the sweater nearly coming down to her elbows and the hem of the waist falling well below her hips.

"Princess Anna, this horse didn't come out," the little Dutch boy said and pointed to the door next to Sven.

"Yeah, and that's okay," Anna answered very quickly.

"Yeah, that's okay. Don't worry about him," Stefanie urged and very quickly shooed the boy away from the door.

"It's really okay," Grimsen very quickly agreed and maneuvered himself between the guests and the door.

"Totally okay," Vollan very quickly corroborated.

"Absolutely okay," Holt very quickly concurred. The two subordinate guards joined their commander in front of the closed door.

"Is he sick?" the little Dutch boy asked, his curiosity piqued.

"No, but he prefers to be left alone," Anna explained.

"Probably nothing to see," Debora chimed in, fully understanding the locals' reluctance to interact with the stall's occupant.

"Let's listen to our hosts," Homberg advocated.

"Yes, it is surely very wise," Papadopoulos put forward.

"Undoubtedly, they know what they're talking about," Irene endorsed. John, Zlata, Adam, and Beatrice all nodded earnestly.

Eliasz, Waclaw, Sinibaldo, and Newark looked inquisitively at their fellows, who nodded even more earnestly. Eliasz, Waclaw, Sinibaldo, and Newark exchanged suspicious glances, and the rest of the tourists murmured skeptically.

"But he didn't get a treat," the little Dutch boy protested.

"He doesn't like carrots," Anna said flatly. Suddenly, bringing snacks for the denizens of the stable seemed like a huge mistake. "He's fine. He'll get something else later."

"Whatcha hiding in there? A tiger?" the Irishman wisecracked.

"A unicorn, perhaps?" Newark jibed.

The upper stall door finally swung open. The Arendellians all cringed. The guards hastily moved away and pushed the tour group back.

"I am far superior to a unicorn," Sleipnir whispered and stretched his long, muscular neck and exquisitely sculpted head out over the bottom half of the door.

The tour group, even the ones who had already encountered the snow-horse on Monday, all jumped and made sounds of surprise and alarm. The flesh-and-blood horses all flinched and withdrew their heads back inside their stalls. Only Sven happily flapped his ears in a greeting.

"Hello, Sven. Nice weather today," Sleipnir said in his undertone. The reindeer bobbed his head in acknowledgement.

"T-t-talking h-h-horse," Newark stuttered.

Sleipnir deftly opened his stall's lower door with his mouth, and stepped out into full view. " _Snow_ - _horse_ ," he corrected disdainfully, showing off his magnificent physique and towering height. His icy hooves gave the impression of being harder than steel. His sky-blue eyes took everyone's measure, and clearly found everyone wanting.

"Oh, crocus petals," Anna muttered, using an old Arendellian euphemism. Every child instinctively hid behind the nearest adult, relative or not. Many of the adult tourists looked ready to bolt off. She knew that she herself did not feel or appear confident right now. Even the guards were intimidated. This was turning into the worst-case scenario. The snow-horse had never hurt anyone, and Anna doubted he ever would unless he was attacked first, but the visitors could injure themselves in their panic. Suddenly, that liability waiver seemed like a bright idea - although she was determined to keep it from being called into play. "Sleipnir, these people are guests. Queen Elsa wants them to enjoy their tour," Anna invoked his creator's wishes in hope of persuading the snow-horse to conduct himself courteously or go back in his stall.

The snow-horse scrutinized her with those sky-blue eyes that were so eerily like Elsa's. As unsettling as it was, at least she had managed to draw his attention away from the rest of the crowd. "Why are you wearing a tent, Princess?" Sleipnir hissed.

"It's a sweater. It's just the wrong size," Anna said simply, trying not to give him any openings.

"It looks like the one Sven's human wears. Is she allowed to use it, Sven?" Sleipnir asked softly.

Sven indicated the affirmative and smiled fondly at Anna.

"Very well, then. Although it should probably be laundered before you let your human have it back," Sleipnir counseled. "There's no telling how dirty she'll get it." With that, he turned nimbly and stepped back into his stall, adroitly closing the bottom door, but slamming the top one shut.

Anna exhaled in relief while Stefanie and the guards herded the tour group well away, and Sven fluttered his ears and lowed a goodbye. But now that the meeting was over and the guests had some space and barriers between themselves and the snow-horse, their initial shock and trepidation were replaced by mesmerized amazement.

"I'll wager anything that he is Queen Elsa's white palfrey," the Irishman deadpanned after a few moments of silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for any distress he might have caused you; he's not supposed to be part of the tour," Stefanie said contritely.

"He's _not_ dangerous," Anna emphasized. "But he can be a jer- But he doesn't like to socialize, so we do our best to respect his wishes. Even regular horses can be temperamental." She almost could not believe she was standing up for the snow-horse in public, but her own protective instincts were triggered by her theory that Sleipnir and his misanthropic attitude were born out of Elsa's repressed, all-too justifiable pain and anger.

"That they can," Homberg granted. "As can other animals, including humans."

Anna wondered if the naturalist or the other researchers already had a similar hunch about the snow-horse's genesis, and became apprehensive that the guests would start asking questions about Sleipnir's origin. Being evasive was not her forte, especially not on the spur of the moment, and even more especially not when up against analytical, worldly interrogators, and still more especially not when she _might_ have something to feel a tiny bit guilty about. So her mind looked for a way to quickly steer the visitors' interest in a new direction. She had learned the tactical value of a good distraction from watching her sister.

Fortunately, an idea was literally staring her in the face. The Princess gathered the excesses of the ill-fitting sweater and trundled over to a set of very wide, top-hung sliding doors. "Well, we can get back to dull, reliable inanimate objects," she grinned as she pulled the heavy doors open with a squeak of rollers and thuds against the stoppers to reveal an array of carriages and, further back in the room, a small fleet of clinker-built dinghies on trailers or in cradles.

Everyone's eyes were drawn to an enclosed four-seater coach, painted purple and green and trimmed in gold, with glass windows and a golden crocus emblazoned on its dashboard. It was in pristine condition, as though it had barely been used.

"The royal coach," Stefanie stated the obvious.

Anna smiled mischievously. Out of modesty, Stefanie usually glossed over this part of the tour, but Anna had no qualms about sharing a few little details and embarrassing her friend in a good way. It was time to get even for the occasions when Stefanie razzed her for not introducing herself as "the Princess."

"Built by Miss Rask's grandfather and great-uncles. It was one of the first carriages to use steel springs in the suspension; they developed it themselves," Anna disclosed cheerfully. Stefanie rolled her eyes; the guards laughed behind their hands. The visitors all looked from the coach to the guide.

"As you can see, it's more of a boondoggle status symbol than a practical necessity," Stefanie deflected. "In fact, it's too wide for many of Arendelle's roads, even here in town."

"We usually just ride horseback or use wagons like these," Anna said and gestured to a quartet of wains, which were of a much narrower breadth and more low-set than the coach. "They convert to sleighs with just a few simple tools. Just attach the runners and pop the wheels off. Also built by Miss Rask's family. Her great-great-grandfather came up with the design." The visitors all looked from the wagons to the guide.

"It took a lot of trial and error," Stefanie shrugged.

"You never mentioned yesterday that you are from an illustrious Arendellian family, Miss Rask," Zlata archly commented.

"Or that your family is involved with engineering and inventing," Waclaw added.

"They adapted most of the fittings and mechanisms from preexisting devices. We're really just artisans," Stefanie insisted sheepishly.

"With a fantastic reputation. If you want a top-quality product, you go to the Rasks. Favored by the royal family and the official Ice Master and Deliverer!" Anna said, doing her best impersonation of an extremely enthusiastic salesperson.

Stefanie rolled her eyes again. "You're a great repeat customer, Your Highness. We can count on you to drop a sled off a cliff every year, and then just flash the cash and buy a new one," the guide riposted dryly. The guards laughed behind their hands again. The visitors all looked from the wagons to the Princess.

"Hey, I had _nothing_ to do with the last time!" Anna laughingly objected. "Elsa just sent me to pick out another one for Kristoff, because he'd always choose the basic model, even if we tell him he can get whichever one he wants."

"That's because he knows it will only end up _engulfed in flames at the bottom of a ravine_ before too long, Princess, so why waste all that hard work?" Stefanie retorted. "Do you know how long it takes to make a reclining driver's seat or a stowaway back seat?" The guide walked over to Kristoff's latest replacement wagon/sled, and demonstrated how the front seat's backrest tilted with the pull of a lever near the floorboard, and how the rear bench neatly folded down to provide more cargo area.

"Oooh, and it has a cup holder, too!" the Irishman noticed.

"That's some precision joinery there," the Dutch father appraised. Eliasz, Waclaw, Zlata, Sinibaldo, Newark, and Homberg nodded in agreement.

"Well, yes, that's because humans can _definitely_ be temperamental, and we don't want a bunch of burly ice harvesters, miners, lumberjacks, and farmers armed with picks, axes, and pitchforks knocking on our doors because the bottom fell out of their wagons," Stefanie said drolly.

"Self-preservation is _definitely_ powerful motivation," Homberg reiterated with a chuckle.

Even though the pronouncement was meant as light-hearted banter, it again reminded Anna far too much of Elsa's allegation that curing a shot of ice-magic to the heart was nearly impossible, and she fidgeted awkwardly with the sweater. Love was more powerful, had to be more powerful. Love always triumphed. There had to be _something_ that said so. She suddenly knew who she should talk with ... but probably not with a gaggle of tourists in tow. Unfortunately, one of the places where he could often be found was the next stop on their route, so she would have to check back alone later.

"Joking aside, the _real_ reason her family makes the extra effort is because they _care_ about other people. They know their customers' livelihoods -and lives- depend on their craftsmanship," Anna said with a seriousness that surprised herself. "Kris- the Ice Master has told me what can happen in the backcountry if you have an equipment failure. Everyone trusts the Rasks to build each wagon as though their own family is going to use it."

"You can stop sounding like an advertisement now, Princess," Stefanie blushed. The guide tugged the sliding doors shut as though to ensure her friend ceased extolling her family's business. "Almost everybody has the same work ethic."

"Evidently, you have never shopped in Weselton, young lady," the Dutch mother quipped. The guards, adult tourists, and even a few children snickered.

"Neither one of them has set foot outside of Arendelle," Grimsen smirked and thumbed at Stefanie and Anna, who both crossed their arms over their chests in annoyance.

"Well, one day it will be 'Look out, world,' " Anna declared.

"And I hope to be safely retired when the time comes, Your Highness, because I do not want to be part of your security squad," Grimsen riposted.

"Good, because I wouldn't want a wet blanket like you following me around," Anna laughed.

"Heaven help the fellows who get saddled with that job," Grimsen said and eyed Vollan and Holt. The lieutenant and sergeant pretended to not hear the captain's words and instead be very interested in the collars and cuffs of their uniforms.

"Let's go say a prayer for them at the Royal Chapel," Stefanie proposed with a smile and pointed toward a building in the courtyard close to the castle.

The drizzle was more perceptible now, on the verge of becoming proper rain, and so they hastened to the church's main doors. They wiped their shoes on a simple mat of braided coarse rope before entering.

The tour group stood in the center aisle of the nave and marveled at the interior. Like the castle, it managed to be richly detailed without being gaudy, and the materials and workmanship were of the highest class. The lack of gold and overtly religious decorations somehow enhanced the serenity and sincerity of the space. There was nothing pretentious to contradict the spiritual message, nothing strident to make anyone feel unwelcome.

"I bet this place is even lovelier on a sunny day," Debora said as she absorbed the stained-glass windows that lined the walls.

"It is," came a voice from the choir balcony at the front of the chapel. They looked up to see a man dusting the railing of the loft; his ecclesiastical vestment identified him as a member of the clergy. "Although stormy days highlight the beauty of a solid, well-designed roof." He gesticulated to the curved timbers that vaulted above their heads.

"Almost looks like an inverted ship's frame," Eliasz observed.

"That's not too far off, sir. Many shipwrights worked on the construction of the chapel," Stefanie elucidated.

"Perfectly sensible if you think about it. What makes a for a sound, dry boat would also make for a sound, dry building," Newark reasoned.

"Quite so, sir. Finding different ways to apply our talents is something of a tradition here in Arendelle," the cleric said and disappeared down a staircase or ladder at one end of the upper gallery. He re-emerged a moment later from behind the screen to the rear of the altar. "And it's comforting to think that this place just might float if it ever gets swept off its foundation and turned upside down."

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Bishop Strand," Stefanie presented.

"Welcome to the Royal Chapel. I'm glad you've braved the weather to stop in," the Bishop said. The visitors murmured their reciprocal greetings as the Bishop smiled warmly and made eye contact with each of the guests, and nodded to Papadopoulos, who responded likewise.

"Will you be here later on today, Right Reverend?" Papadopoulos inquired. "I'd like to chat with you after the tour is over, if you're so inclined."

"I'll have the tea ready, Father," Strand invited. "If I'm not out here, you can find me in the office on the left in the hallway behind the screen."

"Watch out, people: They've joined forces," the Irishman waggishly warned.

"Positively no arguing or complaining now."

"Not necessarily, sir. If there's a difficulty, it is usually far better to address it than to keep silent," the Bishop gently gainsaid.

"Amen," Anna said to herself, but in the stillness and acoustics of the chapel, her voice carried farther than she anticipated. Many sets of eyes stared at her, and she squirmed slightly.

"I do believe Her Highness has enough experience to say so," Papadopoulos vouched.

"True enough," Grimsen allowed, and gave Anna an reassuring look.

"And on the other hand, complaining or quarreling about insignificant things, or seeing problems when there really are none, or enjoying fighting and complaining for their own sake far too much are ordinary human frailties, and sometimes we simply need someone to help us see things from another perspective and break free from unhappy patterns," the Bishop edified.

Anna felt particularly hopeful that the Bishop would provide her with the information she needed to prove that Elsa underestimated the power of love, or at least would point her in the right direction. Father Papadopoulos could maybe add something of value, as well; even though his denomination probably had a few different teachings, he seemed to be optimistic, wise, and open-minded.

"I _would_ say that you'll make it all the way to Pope one day, Right Reverend, but as you're not Roman Catholic, I guess that would be a little hard," the Irishman reckoned. He scanned the area by the altar and the stained-glass windows once more. "I don't mean to pry, but are you even Christian? Because I don't see any crosses or biblical scenes in here."

"I myself am a Christian," the Bishop professed. "As are most Arendellians, at least of some stripe. But since our monarchs have given us freedom of religion for centuries, the Royal Chapel is deliberately kept neutral, and those of us who officiate here wear the crocus insignia, so that all citizens and guests of any or no faith may feel included and at ease within these walls. We have a Christian church with the usual symbols just up the hill around the bend from town, as do many of our other larger communities. We also have a small synagogue. And a few pagan rites still linger on in some of our national celebrations and private practices."

Once more, amazement coursed through the majority of the tourists. "That's extremely tolerant," the Dutch mother approved.

"There are limits, though, ma'am. We don't permit anything for the sake of religious beliefs that would be a crime in secular circumstances. The right ends when it begins to infringe on other people's rights. That goes for all of us, regardless of creed or social standing," Grimsen expounded.

"Even Queen Elsa?" the little Dutch boy queried.

"Well, technically, yes, even Queen Elsa, unless she revokes the right or alters it. But she would never do that. I know for sure that she wants it to be in our constitution, so that no one, not even the next king or queen, can take it away," Anna stated.

"Er, Arendelle is an absolute monarchy, Your Highness; you don't have a constitution," Sinibaldo pointed out.

"But we will. It's something Elsa is working on," Anna said offhandedly.

Yet again, amazement undulated through the majority of the tourists. "You mean that the Queen is working on relinquishing power?" Sinibaldo asked incredulously.

"Well, it's not as simple as you think. When she first told me that Arendelle should have a written constitution, I said that she would bang it out in less than two weeks, at the rate she works. But then she said that it would be weird to set up a framework for democracy without giving the people any say in the matter, especially since the people actually ratified her as Queen, and that she would probably overlook some important issues because, you know, she didn't get out much as a kid. So she's getting input from public debates and referendums, the council, the lawspeakers, and some diplomats and trade partners whose countries already have constitutions, but, wow, there are a _lot_ of people who enjoy fighting and complaining for their own sake, so it's taking a long time and a lot of effort," Anna rambled.

"I wasn't so much astounded that such a thing would be a difficult, time-consuming process, Your Highness, but rather that someone with absolute power would voluntarily give it up. Even more so because of Her Majesty's _other_ powers," Sinibaldo clarified. The rest of the tourists murmured in agreement.

"Yeah, well, my sister isn't as obsessed with power as some people," Anna said somewhat defensively.

"Her Majesty obviously has a very different individual experience with power, and so her point of view is correspondingly different," the Bishop said much more diplomatically.

"Queen Elsa wants to safeguard Arendelle and its citizens. She realized how vulnerable we were when a certain princess could leave a foreign prince that she had spoken with for all of roughly three hours in charge of the kingdom, and everybody just went along with her," Grimsen related.

"I am never going to live that down, am I?" Anna groaned.

"Nope," Stefanie promised impishly.

"But you're not the only one who should be embarrassed about that little episode, Your Highness," Grimsen consoled her. "Which is why Queen Elsa wants to balance the citizens' bill of rights with a citizens' bill of responsibilities ... which is why there is so much arguing."

"She shoulda written a constitution by herself, and just forced it on the country, and then adjusted it if a problem came up, democratic principles be hanged," Holt grumbled.

"See? We can't even agree whether we should follow democratic procedures in order to institute democratic procedures," Vollan said as a wry aside to the visitors.

"Oooh, that's like the conundrum about whether the chicken or the egg came first!" the Irishman remarked.

"The mind boggles," Sinibaldo chuckled.

"Nonetheless, nearly all of us agree that clearly codifying our laws and rights is necessary. We're confident that we will have a well thought-out constitution in the near future," the Bishop asserted.

"With Queen Elsa managing things, I have no doubt that you will," Newark said. "The world is watching with great interest; whatever Arendelle comes up with will be studied by many people involved with governing and political theory."

"No pressure there," the Irishman kidded.

"I'm fairly sure Her Majesty was well aware of that prospect before she got started. All of the trailblazing that she's been doing on the economic, technological, social, and political fronts -to say nothing of her magic- has certainly grabbed the attention of the Great Powers," Newark reported.

"Elsa often says that she likes big projects," Anna disclosed.

"She must, Your Highness. Arendelle was already quite advanced and prosperous, but it's plain that Queen Elsa intends to set even higher standards. She's the hardest working leader that anybody knows of, at least in the developed world," Newark commended.

"Fulfilling her part of the social contract is something Her Majesty takes very seriously. She has cared deeply about the people of Arendelle since she was a young child," attested the Bishop.

"If I may be so bold, Right Reverend, I'd like to know your standpoint on the Snow Queen's powers," Newark probed, "although I fully understand if you don't want to discuss it in public with strangers."

"My diocese doesn't have an official position, sir, nor do most of the other religious organizations here in Arendelle. However, I am happy to share my personal view of Her Majesty's powers: I believe that they are a singular grace and privilege granted by Almighty God," the Bishop pronounced.

"Thank you, Right Reverend. I'm certain that you've given your opinion considerable thought and haven't felt coerced to say that," Newark trawled.

"Of course not, sir. Queen Elsa herself strongly disagrees with me. But for many years, I've thought that she and her powers are ... something special," the Bishop said.

"So you knew about Her Majesty's powers before the Eternal Winter," Newark inferred.

"I found out about them the day she was baptized. She froze the water I poured on her head, and then lightly frosted over the blanket her mother wrapped her in. But at least she didn't cry or flail, unlike so many others," the Bishop recalled with a chuckle.

"How could nobody else spot that?" John spurted.

"It was a very unusual royal christening, sir. An unannounced 'emergency service' late in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. The populace was busy getting ready for the next day. The only attendees were family members and a few castle employees," the Bishop recounted patiently.

"We arranged it in order to minimize the risk of exposing the newborn's ... capabilities, because nobody knew why or how she was making snow and frost out of thin air and freezing natural water, or if her power to do so would eventually disappear; there was no need to cause a stir if she would ... outgrow the phase in due time," Grimsen defended. "But we also didn't know how long she would survive if her ... difference continued. She was ... colder than normal, and although it didn't seem to bother her, there was a real fear that her body couldn't endure it, so having her baptized as soon as possible was genuinely a top priority for the royal family."

"Elsa turned out to be ridiculously healthy and hardy, in case you were wondering. I was the sickly, fussy baby," Anna chipped in.

There was a moment of silence as the tourists, especially the researchers, assimilated the information.

"How did everybody handle it when you saw Her Majesty's powers, Right Reverend, if I may be so bold once more?" Newark angled.

"King Amund, Queen Heimlaug, Prince Agnarr, and Princess Iduna -as they still were then- along with a few guards and the royal physician were very tense. At first, I didn't quite believe or comprehend what I had seen; I had been told only that there was a 'problem' with the new Princess, and I was expecting an unwell and weak infant, not a magical one," Strand admitted. "The royal family wanted to wait and see how Her Majesty developed before making any long-term judgments, and it was easy enough for me to accept her and agree to keep the secret. I thought of the special child whose birth we would be commemorating the next day. I asked myself if I wanted to be like one of the Wise Men who welcomed Him into the world and declined to betray His location to those who wished to do Him harm, or if I wanted to be like Herod who instigated a slaughter of innocents."

There was another moment of silence as all of the tour group reflected on the Bishop's words. Anna felt even more heartened that talking with the cleric would be productive.

"Through the centuries, Arendelle had never had large-scale civil violence, systemic persecution of any group of citizens, or an assassination attempt on a member of the royal family. Those of us who knew early on about the magic were committed to keeping it that way," Grimsen upheld.

"Can't fault you there, Captain," Newark said sincerely. "I see that Queen Elsa's enlightened approaches to both ruling and being magical are not simply a fortunate happenstance, but rather a natural consequence of your local overall culture and your royal family's philosophy. The world would be a much better place if every country had values and leadership like that."

"Give it time, sir. The road is long and hard, and requires a fair amount of steering," the Bishop humbly reminded. "Everyone takes wrong turns, and meets with obstacles and steep, slippery gradients."

"Very true, Right Reverend," Newark conceded. "Speaking of roads, Miss Rask referred to the 'Branching Paths' primer earlier in the tour, and I presume there is an allegorical narrative involved."

"Indeed, sir. Such things were fashionable back in the day," Strand smiled. "Bishop Bredahl used the metaphor of a journey with many forks in the road to analyze our history and stress the importance of making the right decisions and following good examples to young readers."

"Sounds interesting," Newark said.

"As an adult, you may find it more quaintly amusing than educational," the Bishop cautioned with a wink, "although some of the insights are surprisingly sophisticated. There are Disnee translation editions at the university's library, and there should be one or two copies for loan amongst the pews here, and some in the town's church and synagogue."

"Thank you. It's already been added to my reading list," Newark affirmed.

"The parts that parody 'The Pilgrim's Progress' are the best," Holt tipped. Newark chuckled softly.

"Please feel free to talk with me if you have any questions," the Bishop bade. "While the Disnee translation is quite adequate for the most part, there are a few events from our history and allusions to our folklore that will probably be puzzling to a foreigner."

"Much obliged, Right Reverend," Newark said with a slight bow to Bishop. "On Monday morning I might have derided the notion that Arendelle's history had any real depth to it, but now I'm convinced it's worth studying."

"We've worked very hard to earn our reputation as a dull, irrelevant speck on the map," Strand insisted with a self-effacing smile. The native Arendellians all laughed heartily, and the visitors all joined in.

"We just sit back and let everyone else provide the excitement," Vollan jested.

"Yeah, it was really nice not to have any Thirty Years' Wars, Hundred Years' Wars, Nine Years' Wars, or Eighty Years' Wars to keep straight in our own history lessons. I mean, with the rest of Europe, it's like as soon as one war stopped, another one started, and they all just blur together. What is up with _that_?" Anna good-naturedly poked fun.

Newark held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I must plead that I am not, to date, king of Myrcia," he rejoined playfully. "Nor, do I think, are any of our friends here in control of their homelands. Even in the representative democracies, the best anybody can do is vote for the least offensive candidate who happens to be running for office during a given election - and hope that our choices win and actually do what they pledged to do during their campaigns."

"Sounds _sooo_ superior to what we have right now," Holt said sarcastically.

"We have separation of church and state here, young man. Please try to leave the politics on the other side of the door," the Bishop scolded lightheartedly.

"Don't make him give you a sermon," Vollan jokingly reprimanded as he elbowed the sergeant.

"No arguing or complaining!" the Irishman exhorted, and gave the two junior guards a hard stare.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen, let's leave before a homily breaks out," Stefanie suggested with a laugh. "The crocus cookies should be cooled off by now, so if you would please follow me back to the castle, we can wrap up the tour in the main dining hall."

At the mention of the cookies, the visitors perked up. "Gets 'em every time," the Bishop chortled. "You are all welcome to come back any time. The door is always open, even when tours aren't running."

The guests all deferentially bobbed their heads at the Bishop and filed outside. The rain was now coming down in big, slow-moving drops, and they quickly trotted to the nearest set of steps that lead up to the castle's covered terrace.

"We'll need to get the umbrellas, ponchos, and galoshes ready for the one o'clock tour group," Grimsen told his assistants as everybody wiped his or her feet yet again before reentering the front foyer where the tour had begun. They all gathered around the fire for a few minutes in companionable silence, taking turns in the front row.

"This way to the refreshments," Stefanie directed once everyone seemed to be pleasantly warmed, and lead them back out into the corridor toward the spiral staircase lobby.

Kai and a few other castle employees had made decent progress with separating the heap of armor; Olaf was still perambulating in vicinity, searching through the furnishings.

"Hey, Olaf, we're going to have cookies in the dining hall. Want to come along?" Anna called out when she saw the snowman. He didn't eat in the usual sense, but he enjoyed being around humans when they ate.

"Nope. I'm still looking for that lizard. I thought I had it cornered by the armor, but I lost track of it when I stopped to hug everyone," Olaf said, his head low to the ground to look beneath a breakfront.

"Lizard...?" asked Anna, the proverbial light beginning to dawn on the identity of the culprit behind her unwanted early morning reveille.

"Lizard?" asked a maid who stood in the middle of several pieces of armor which would be fine shelters for a little, scaly interloper. She carefully stepped away in case the animal decided to jump out.

"Yeah, it got away last night during dinner," Olaf imparted. "We tried to catch it, but it scurried under the sideboard." He opened a drawer and inspected the interior for any sign of a reptilian lodger.

"And how did a lizard get into the castle, Olaf?" Kai asked evenly.

"Halvard brought it to show the guests," Olaf said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Vollan pinched the bridge of his nose. The other Arendellians swiveled to face the lieutenant. The tour group found themselves automatically doing the same, intuiting that this Halvard was related to him. The Irishman really got into the spirit of it by placing his hands on his hips in mock anger. Grimsen gave him another hard stare, and the Irishman smiled apologetically and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Olaf told us some crickets got loose, too," Irene divulged. Adam and Beatrice smiled in merry recollection.

"Crickets?" Kai queried serenely as the last clue was uncovered.

"But we got them all back," Olaf said, his voice muted because he had his head inside a cabinet. His snow flurry tried its best to fit in, too, but there was room for only half of the cloud.

"I'm fairly sure you missed at least one," Kai deduced with a stifled laugh.

"Lieutenant, we need to sit down with your son and review the list of items that are inappropriate for show-and-tell at the castle," Grimsen demanded dryly.

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir," Vollan concurred with a weary sigh. "And perhaps Halvard needs to forgo some playtime so that he can apprehend his wee creatures before the castle turns into a zoo."

"Don't worry, Lieutenant. I'm on the job. I'll find them in no time," Olaf pledged.

"There are a lot of great hiding spots for small animals in here, Olaf. It will probably take you longer than you think if you work by yourself," Homberg advised. With so many children in the room, the naturalist didn't want to bring up the delicate subject of life spans for insects, and explain that "the circle of life" would very likely end the cricket's stay on the premises long before it could be evicted.

"Then I'll ask the Snowgies to come help out," Olaf proposed. Sometimes he and Sven went to visit his snow-siblings at the Ice Palace when the reindeer wasn't busy helping Kristoff.

" _No!_ " all of the Arendellians present shouted in unison. A lizard and a few crickets roaming the castle were inconsequential; an infestation of the Snow Queen's living sneezes, however, was not something to take lightly.

Olaf winced, and his friendly smile melted into a slightly pained expression. All of the guests, adults and children alike, glowered accusingly at the natives for upsetting the little snowman.

Anna knelt down next Olaf and wrapped an arm around his torso. "We're sorry. We shouldn't have raised our voices," she soothed. "But you know the rules. The Snowgies can come to town _only_ if Elsa gives permission." Because Elsa was the only person the armless mischief-makers would unfailingly obey.

"But some of the staff can join in the hunt, Olaf. You'll have plenty of people to keep you company," Kai said kindly. The overseer could simply reassign the maintenance crew to provisional critter round-up duties until he could tell the Queen about how the bugs got inside the castle. "Let's go find Aron, Truls, and Bertil." He held out his hand, and the snowman took it with his twig fingers. Olaf waved farewell again to the tour group, and he and Kai strolled off.

"Just a typical day at Arendelle castle," Stefanie jokingly told the visitors as they resumed walking.

"And here I thought we'd only get to see people dusting the woodwork and polishing the silverware," the Irishman wryly confessed. "We got to see the Bishop do a little dusting, but I'm somewhat disappointed that there hasn't been any polishing."

"Give us one more chance, sir," Stefanie said with her tongue firmly in her cheek as she motioned for everyone to enter the dining hall.

 **Author's Notes - Be warned: There will be spoilers for "Frozen II" and teasers for upcoming moments in "Force of Nature" throughout these notes.**

 **If there are going to be any large-scale action sequences, Elsa needs fast transportation. So, a very special horse is pretty much a requirement, given the technological limitations of the "Frozen" timestamp. Yes, I could have given her a magical conveyance, like a flying carpet or a souped-up skateboard, made of ice, but a horse and rider duo are just more charismatic. Gandalf and Shadowfax. The Lone Ranger and Silver. Alec and the Black Stallion (book version). Sleipnir isn't simply a car with a bad attitude; he will definitely do things that an inanimate object cannot. You will probably want to hug him/cheer for him on a few occasions. Plus, the Christian apocalypse has four horsemen, not three horsemen and a rug-rider or scooter-jockey.**

 **To my surprise, "Frozen II" also gave Elsa a lizard/salamander. Of course, my lizard isn't magical. (The cricket is another story...) But it will give Elsa and Homberg a chance to interact/bond when he enlists her to help catch it. But only _after_ it and Olaf cause pandemonium at the Harvest Festival Ball, with Grieg's "In the Hall of the Mountain King" as the musical cue.**

 **In "Force of Nature," Anna will have sporadic dreams which feature Elsa turning to "living" ice/snow as Anna worries more and more that Elsa's "humanity" is slipping away or isn't developing as it should as her powers grow. Whether Elsa finally does transform into transparent, "living" ice with eyes that glint like diamonds is for me to know and you to find out. Heh!**

 **Because this story is going to be quite a bit darker than what Disney would feel comfortable with for the franchise. I understand their constraints, but my goal is to set up my climax to be the reverse of the original film's: Elsa standing over someone/something with a blade of pure magic, ready to deliver the death stroke (to the literal/figurative heart, naturally). Not going to say whether she actually does it, or what the circumstances, stakes, and consequences are.**

 **But I will say that my version of Elsa also has a more important destiny than just governing a petty kingdom and making sure everyone's ice cream cake melts in their mouths, not on the serving platter. Grand Pabbie will make a quasi-prophetic pronouncement concerning Elsa that superficially seems to be on the "Wow! Awesome!" side, but as crisis-time comes around and people start to think really hard about what Grand Pabbie actually did and _did not_ say, it will become much more of a "Gulp! Oh, no!" scenario. (Coming up with an ambiguous prophecy is much more difficult than you think it is. Really.) In a "realistic" sequel (or at least is as "realistic" as a story that hinges on a character having magical powers can be), Elsa can only end up in one of three conditions: De-powered, separated in some fashion from the ordinary world, or dead. Possibly all three. I steeple my fingers and sit back in my desk chair and smirk at you. Of course, there is a very wide range of ultimate outcomes within those options, but if you are familiar with Larry Niven's "Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex" essay about the troubles that would plague Superman and any ordinary romantic partner, you can understand that Elsa is in a situation that could be titled "Woman of Absolute Zero (Or At Least Dry Ice), Significant Other of Mostly Water," and see why a conventional Disney happy ending is not in the cards as long as she has her powers.**

 **Which will vex my version of Anna to no end. If anything, Anna's character development will be darker and more harrowing than Elsa's, since I have to get her to the truly Rebellious Princess stage. When she finally does travel abroad and sees how appalling the conditions are in places that are close to home, it's going to hit her hard. And when Elsa the Goddess of Thermodynamics refuses to help her "set things right," it's going to hit her even harder. There will be shout-outs to Dostoevsky's "Grand Inquisitor" chapter from _The Brothers Karamazov_ and Orwell's _Nineteen_ _Eighty-Four_ (I know! As if this isn't weird enough already!) when the Sisters Arendelle argue about it. E.g., says Elsa: "Without a choice, without the opportunity to do wrong, there can be no virtue. And then who would be worthy of heaven?" Although my version of Elsa has a rather strained relationship with religion.**

 **I also have to eventually get Anna to see her parents' actions from her parents' point of view (as well as get Elsa to admit that papa and mama hurt her and gave up on her). I will _not_ be retconning the king and queen's fateful, fatal voyage the way that "Frozen II" did. In a way, I can understand Disney's desire to moderate the way the parents came off in the first movie, but unfortunately, the way they came off in the first movie is _completely_ realistic. I know some people are disturbed by it, but in the real world, parents screw up badly all the time, even if they love their children.**

 **( _And_ "Frozen II's" retcon is, unfortunately, decidedly unbelievable, even within a story that features magic out the wazoo. I mean, one does not simply walk into Mordor... Or a better analogy would be: One does not simply sail up to Aman, especially when the Valar are angry. You had better be at least half Elven _and_ have a Silmaril if you hope to cross the Shadowy Seas. Mere mortals wouldn't survive long enough in Ahtohallan to learn much of anything, even if they had somehow arrived alive. Meanwhile, there's this Enchanted Forest that anyone can just mosey up to, and although Agnarr and Iduna know it's kinda sealed off to ordinary people, maybe their _magical_ daughter could, like, give it a try? Especially since there might be Arendellians still trapped inside. Honest Trailers, HISHE, and Everything Wrong With... will have a field day.)**

 **So, I'll be sticking with Agnarr and Iduna essentially asking Elsa to please keep her emotions and magic stifled for the rest of her life becaus** e **they really don't -or maybe it's _can't_ \- think there's any alternative. I will also be sticking with magic being real, but seemingly extremely rare. However, there will be tension between magic and the ordinary world, especially the monotheistic religions of the era. Not everyone will be as easy-going as the Bishop. I opted to make the Bishop one of the people who knew about Elsa's powers before the Eternal Winter because he definitely saw the frost on the orb and scepter but didn't even bat an eye. He also seemed very apologetic about asking her to remove the gloves. I also opted to give Arendelle another church somewhere not on the castle's campus, because if the gates were shut for thirteen years and the only house of worship is behind the gates, I think somebody would be angry.**

 **I also always planned on having Agnarr's father and mother be ambivalent about Elsa's magic for the relatively brief time that their lives overlap. My King Amund was creeped out by the magic, but at the same time he recognized its potential "usefulness" in a world that glided from war to war. The king of a small, resource-rich country would justifiably worry about getting caught in shifting allegiances, battle lines, and national boundaries, especially with the Buonapartic (Napoleonic) Wars fresh in his mind. Hence, they held off on deciding whether Elsa was too dangerous to be allowed to live. It's not a kindly, loving reason, but it is believable, given the dictates of _Realpolitik_.**

 **The dictates of _Realpolitik_ will also come into play with the Irishman. You have probably guessed that he isn't "good," and he isn't. He's actually pretty nasty. Anna will still be somewhat shocked by how cold-hearted and ruthless Elsa can be when she has the proper incentive. It's a small step toward "Your Kingdom Will Splinter."**


	41. Chapter 41

41\. Tour of Duty

Sure enough, at one of the dining hall's side tables close to a doorway that likely lead to the kitchen, a maid was inspecting a velvet-lined bin of flatware and buffing any whose luster didn't meet her satisfaction.

"Hooray!" the Irishman exclaimed happily. The maid looked up and then around the room in confusion to see what the guest was cheering about. "Sorry, ma'am. Don't mind me. I was told there would be cookies."

The maid smiled knowingly and pointed toward the tables nearest to the hearth. There were plates of cookies set out, along with pots of hot beverages, a large tureen with a ladle in it, mugs, teaspoons, small pitchers of cream or milk, a bowl of sugar cubes, a jar of honey, a dish of lemon wedges, and napkins. The Irishman rubbed his hands together in anticipation, and the other customers admired the ample spread.

"Welcome to the main dining hall," Stefanie grinned.

Anna took the initiative, since a few in the tour group might feel bound by etiquette to wait until she took the first bite. It was one of those weird royal protocols for which she didn't see a good reason, but some people persisted in keeping. And breakfast _had_ been a while ago, by her stomach's standards.

"The pots on this table are filled with coffee, and the ones on that table are tea. And the stuff in the tureen is soft apple cider that's been simmered with fresh apple and orange slices, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, and a little food-grade and medicine-grade boreal saffron," Anna described, savoring the bouquet of the mulled libation. She grabbed a mug, and filled it halfway with the cider, topped off the remainder with tea, added two sugar cubes, and stirred. She raised her mug in a salute to the tour's participants and personnel, and took a drink. She picked up a plate of cookies, and tucked in, dunking a sweet, crisp, buttery tip in the invigorating brew.

The Irishman stepped forward and helped himself to the coffee and cream, and carried his cookies over to a nearby empty table and settled down to enjoy the snack. Everyone else, including the guide and the guards, queued up to create his or her own pick-me-up.

"It tastes a little bit like how freshly mown grass smells," the Irishman commented after a bite of the cookie.

"That's the flavor of boreal saffron," Stefanie explained.

"This is a rich treat, in more ways than one," Newark assessed as he sat down with the baked goods and cider with tea. "The medicine-grade variety is the most expensive commodity in the world: more costly per kilogram than gold, diamonds, vanilla, or regular saffron."

The Irishman nearly choked on his coffee. All of the visitors who had chosen the cider or made a blend with it stared at the contents of their mugs.

"Don't worry, it's included with the tour," Anna assured them. "Besides, it's not like _we_ have to _buy_ it."

"I suppose something that can make the difference between life and death would be expensive," the Dutch mother reasoned.

"It's not so much its properties that make the price so high, ma'am. We would sell it for less if we could. But around 150,000 crocus flowers are required to produce one kilogram of any type of saffron," Stefanie expounded.

The Irishman nearly choked on a bite of cookie. "Are you serious?" he rasped.

"Yes, sir. We know it sounds like an exaggeration, but obviously the stigmas and stamens of a single flower don't weigh very much. Furthermore, they must be dried," Stefanie pointed out. "In addition: The plant blooms for only a few weeks each year; the crop requires some replanting and land management for optimum yields; the medicine-grade crocus grows only in a select area; it's somewhat involved for the workforce to get to the uplands that the medicine-grade variety prefers; the flowers must be picked before they open, and it's not easy work, as you saw in the painting; removing, drying, and packing the threads must be done in a very clean environment; and they must be stored away from air, light, and dampness to preserve the quality. We genuinely don't overcharge, especially considering supply and demand."

"Thank goodness a little goes a long way," John stated. "It takes about the equivalent of only two pinches' worth administered over the course of two weeks to clear up a case of consumption, and five pinches' worth to beat back the plague. I have no idea just how many lives an entire kilogram could save, depending on what kind of infection needs to be cured or prevented, but it's a bargain when you do the per capita math. Gold and diamonds are the overpriced baubles in comparison."

Newark raised his mug in a toast. "To health," the Myrcian proposed. The tour group wholeheartedly echoed his words, and the hall resounded with their voices.

"Oh, I can imagine this place when there's a full house and the drinking songs start," the Irishman marveled. Everyone chuckled.

"I bet it can get pretty rollicking," Debora agreed. "You must be able to fit at least three hundred people in here."

"If we cram the tables together, five hundred people can be seated, give or take, although that limit has only been reached once, in the aftermath of the Great Fire of 1597, when the lower levels of town burned to the ground, leaving most of the survivors homeless and without any possessions, not even a blanket or change of clothes," Stefanie conveyed.

"Nothing like a crisis to bring people together," Papadopoulos noted dryly.

"Yeah, King Brage and Queen Christina really packed 'em in here until they could arrange for some people to be temporarily boarded in other towns while things were rebuilt," Anna supplied, gesturing to a portrait on the wall featuring the aforementioned couple. "They even had several families bunking with them in the master royal suite for a few nights."

"There's a joke about strange bedfellows in there somewhere," the Irishman quipped.

"Couldn't have been as unpleasant as having a lizard crawl across your face at dark-o'clock in the morning," Anna bantered and polished off her drink.

Vollan paused with his mug almost to his lips, making an educated guess as to why the Princess would say such a thing. "Your Highness, I deeply apologize for-" the lieutenant began.

Anna's giggles cut him off. "Don't worry about it, sir. Now that I know what it was and how it got in here, it's kinda funny. It's like something I would have done," Anna merrily conceded.

"It's like something you _did_ do, Princess. Remember the caterpillars in the kitchen?" Grimsen prompted.

"Oh, yeah! I wanted to watch them turn into butterflies, so I brought them in and gave them some fruits and vegetables," Anna reminisced proudly.

"And then you wandered off to ask someone how long you would have to wait, got distracted-" Grimsen narrated.

"Minor details," Anna interjected breezily.

"-and they ended up finding caterpillars all over the kitchen for the next two days," Grimsen continued. The tour group laughed.

"Live and learn," Anna said sheepishly.

"Did you ever get to see a butterfly emerge from its chrysalis, Your Highness?" Homberg queried.

"Yes, my parents and I watched one break free in the garden. It was wonderful ... but what I _really_ wanted to see was _how_ the caterpillar turned into a butterfly. All the stuff that's going on _inside_ the cocoon," Anna disclosed.

"I'll tell you sometime ... when we haven't just eaten or aren't about to eat," Homberg said with a slight grimace.

"So it's gross?" the little Dutch boy asked, clearly fascinated.

"Finish your cider, please," the Dutch father recommended and gave his son a stern look. Chastened, the boy did as he was bidden. Almost all the guests were close to doing the same, or already had.

The Irishman rose, sauntered back over to the cider tureen, and spooned out a sample from what little remained of the liquid. He sipped it tentatively at first, but quickly swigged it after a taste. "Put some whiskey, rum, or brandy in that, and it would definitely cure anything that ails you," he judged. "Thanks for the nibble and the tonic, my good hosts!" The other tourists expressed their gratitude as well.

"You're quite welcome," Stefanie said graciously and stood up. "This concludes our tour. If you would, please follow me to the exit."

They filed out, and down another hall to a room that had a door that lead out to the courtyard, a door that probably lead to a cloakroom or small armory, three desks, a table for six, storage cabinets, and an assortment of souvenirs on shelves. Grimsen pulled out his desk chair, and set up to convert currencies and make change, as the guests examined the merchandise.

"There is a bigger selection at the Royal Gift Shop, but a few items are sold here exclusively," Stefanie informed everyone as they browsed.

Newark, Eliasz, Waclaw, Sinibaldo, and Papadopoulos, along with a few other tourists, quickly snagged Disnee translation and original Greek editions of the works by Archimedes and Ctesibius. However, a volume on the general history of Arendelle was the most popular choice, with every individual or family unit taking a copy. There were ice sculptures of various subjects, some small enough and intended to be worn as necklace pendants, ranging up to an arm-filling replica of the castle.

"This sculpture is broken," the little Dutch boy noticed, pointing to another shelf with a facsimile of the Ice Palace that was missing its peak and balcony and whose base was surrounded by many small translucent pieces.

"Actually, that's not a sculpture; that's a work in progress," Anna said with a smile and walked over to give a demonstration. The other natives covered their smirks with their hands and got ready for the customers' reactions.

Anna picked up a small translucent brick-shaped piece with two regular rows of three shallow pegs on the top, and showed the children that the bottom had two regular rows of three shallow indentations. Then she snapped the brick almost seamlessly into place on top of one that was already in position on the model of the Ice Palace.

"Oooh!" the children chorused, all eyes wide.

The adult guests stared helplessly in silence, as though under a spell. Holt and Vollan struggled to keep from laughing.

"So you build up the main structure like that, and then there are these special pieces that make the corners, the outer stairs, the doorways, the balcony, and the rooflines," Anna explained. "It's like a puzzle. There are instructions, but it's fun to figure it out for yourself."

"Wow!" the children chorused, and immediately started sorting through the pieces and attaching them to the display.

The adult guests stared helplessly in silence, as though under a spell. Stefanie gave Anna a thumbs-up.

"We also have models of this castle, the clock tower, an ordinary town house, a windmill, a ship, a sleigh with figurines of Olaf and Sven, and freeform sets," Anna said, motioning to the colorful, partially assembled examples on other shelves. The Princess gave the windmill's rigid sails a spin to illustrate their functionality. "We'll have some for sale at a booth at the Harvest Festival, too."

"Whoa!" the children chorused, and immediately began investigating the wares in the toy department. Anna, Stefanie, and Holt showed them special features and humorous details in some of the designs, such as the stowaway back seat in the toy sleigh.

The adult guests stared helplessly in silence, as though under a spell. Grimsen noiselessly opened the cash box on his desk.

Newark was the first one to find his voice, emitting a kind of strangled, moaning grunt. "Oh, that calculating ... underhanded ... plundering ... brilliant ... daughter of one hundred ... raiders..." Newark spat out, and nearly doubled over while he fought to keep his volume down. "I ... must ... have ... them all..."

"It's not fair," Irene said quietly. She knew her strategy to pass up the souvenirs had been for naught.

"Not fair at all," John confirmed. He knew his hopes of affording a fishing trip in the near future had been for naught.

"Just take my money," Waclaw repeated. He knew he was going to buy one of each of the freeform sets for himself.

"Right there with you," Zlata commiserated. She also knew she was going to buy one of each of the freeform sets for herself.

"We're going to need to buy more luggage for the voyage home," the Dutch mother said. She knew she was going to buy one of every set for her little boy.

"Where were these things for me when I was a child?" Eliasz wondered. He knew he was going to buy one of every set for himself.

"I suppose we can get by without eating for a few weeks," Debora rationalized. She knew she was going to buy _several_ of every set to give to future grandchildren.

"What are these made from?" the little Dutch boy asked as he and Holt put the finishing touches on the windmill.

"Queen Elsa's magic ice," Holt replied.

"But ice isn't brown or red or green," the little Dutch boy said, and pointed to the rainbow of colors in all of the sets save for the Ice Palace.

"She can make ice and snow be any color she wants them to be," Anna elucidated as she, Adam, Beatrice, and two other children added more rows of nubby bricks to the hull and sails of the model ship.

"You and Queen Elsa must have made a lot of fantastic things with these when you were younger," the little Dutch boy gushed, much impressed.

Grimsen stiffened in his chair and glanced at Anna. John and Irene also surreptitiously checked for any downturn in the Princess' mood. But the young woman only smiled.

"To be honest, we didn't. She came up with this idea after the Great Thaw," Anna divulged. "But we certainly had a blast doing research and development. We built a cottage that was big enough for us and Olaf to sit in and have a real tea party."

Everyone grinned at the thought of a powerful, regal luminary not only making toys, but also still playing with them. Newark finally summoned the nerve to look at the price tags, fully expecting to find out that the Snow Queen's handiwork surpassed medicinal boreal saffron. "Oh, that's not so bad," the Myrcian realized. "Per each, at least. Adding all of them to the cart, however ..."

"You can pay in installments," Grimsen offered helpfully. "We ship to most addresses in Europe north of the Alps for usually between one to three talers per box or pail." The children all played intently with the toys, oblivious to the groans of defeat that escaped from the grown-ups.

"I really didn't mean those things I said about Queen Elsa, except the 'brilliant' part," Newark clarified as he gathered the boxes and lidded pails that contained the magical building brick sets, and stacked them and the books on Grimsen's desk. The piles far exceeded the seated guard's head. "It was just the heat of the moment. I ... underestimated Her Majesty's talents."

"No offense taken, sir," Grimsen chuckled as he entered the extensive order in a ledger book. "Most of us, especially those with young children or grandchildren, responded much the same way when Queen Elsa unveiled the collection. Sometimes, she's a little _too_ good at parting people from their money."

"And you'll say much worse things if you unwittingly step barefoot on one of those bricks. The translucent ones from the Ice Palace set are especially tricky to see," Vollan warned. "It's better to put these together on a table, not the floor; and all pieces which haven't been attached yet should go back in the box or pail when playtime is over."

" 'It is costly wisdom that is bought by experience,' " Newark quoted again with a smile.

"And by the way, all of these except for three of the freeform sets are inappropriate for children younger than four, due to the choking risk. It's all there on the labels and in the instructions," Grimsen said as he began writing Newark's receipt. The other adult tourists paused their activities in sympathy and/or morbid curiosity as the captain totaled the bill. "The damage comes to ... 102 talers, sir. And we'll throw in ten talers and four skillings' worth of store credit toward ice sculptures. Big end-of-season blow out."

Newark didn't flinch amidst the polyphony of resigned sighs, low whistles, coughs, sputtering gasps, and soft yowls from the crowd. Eliasz, Debora, and the Dutch mother and father sat down at the table while they absorbed the shock. Zlata and Waclaw placed supportive hands on their elders' shoulders. The Irishman and Father Papadopoulos fanned air to the Dutch couple.

"Now I see why the tour itself was so cheap, and why the snacks were proffered just before bringing us here: It helps mitigate the ambush at the end," Newark remarked dryly.

"All of the proceeds go to charities," Grimsen reminded. He peered up at Newark between the mounds of boxes and pails, mutely and tactfully inquiring if the customer wanted to remove any articles from the purchase or needed to make use of the layaway option.

Newark retrieved some coins from his pocket and placed them on the desk. "It seems I have been ... outmaneuvered. I obviously didn't bring that much money with me, but I'll be back shortly," he promised.

Grimsen counted the down payment, and tallied the balance on the invoice and in the ledger book, and had Newark initial it. "If we're not here when you return, just show the guard outside the door this bill of sale, and he'll handle the rest of the transaction. You can take the books and ... let's see ... the large freeform and town house sets with you now, if you want to get a head start," Grimsen suggested.

Vollan carefully bagged the books and the box, and set them by the big dark blue pail. He appraised the remainder of the order. "This looks like a job for a handcart," the lieutenant said. "We'll have a footman help you carry all of it home."

"We have the last of the big spenders here. Aren't you too old to play with toys?" the Irishman teased Newark.

"They're for my children," Newark insisted.

"You keep telling yourself that, pal," the Irishman jibed.

"Well, it's my duty as a parent to make sure all the pieces are there," Newark said with feigned haughtiness.

"Now that's a dedicated, hands-on father," John winked.

"I do my best to provide for them and tend to their needs; if I can have a little honest fun in the process after stints of changing diapers and cleaning up sloppy burps, I'll take it. All hail Queen Elsa for making a toy that's also entertaining for adults," Newark acclaimed good-humoredly.

Newark's declaration spurred many of the other tourists to indulge themselves. Homberg and Papadopoulos locked eyes, grinned, and reached for the model sleigh sets. The Prussian also took a medium freeform set. "It can get a little dull on board a ship or out in the field at night," the naturalist justified.

"It's never too late to have a happy childhood," Papadopoulos blithely philosophized.

The Dutch parents got up to check on their son's current endeavor with a freeform set. Holt was helping the boy make a caterpillar and butterfly, both somewhat boxy but undeniably recognizable, and they proudly showed off the fruits of their labor.

"So they allow for a great deal of creativity," the Dutch father observed.

"Very much so," Holt substantiated. "The posts, pegs, gears, disks, rings, half-disks, half-rings, triangles, pentagons, hexagons, and leaf shapes really let you use your imagination. I've seen people make a working water wheel, and invent their own crazy board games."

Eliasz cast a yearning glance at all the youngsters hard at play. "What are the terms for the installment plan?" the Pole hazarded.

"You just pay however much you want, whenever you want, until you've paid in full," Grimsen said simply. "If you change your mind at any time, we give you back whatever you've paid in."

"What's the interest rate?" Debora asked warily.

"There's no interest rate," Grimsen assuaged. "It's not a loan, because you don't take possession of your item until you've paid for it." Debora and Eliasz slouched back in their chairs in relief.

"Does Her Majesty take requests?" Sinibaldo asked.

"She does," Anna answered. "You just need to show her a picture, or give her a good description. But I have no clue what she charges."

Sinibaldo pondered that, and grabbed a large freeform set pail. "Eh, these buckets alone are probably worth more than her asking price," the Lombard reckoned.

"Until your children discover that they make incredible drums when they're empty," Vollan said in a soft aside.

"I'm buying for myself, so no problems for me, although my wife might end up with an earache," Sinibaldo chortled.

The adults waited until children had arrived at good stopping points in their projects. The little Dutch boy smiled in satisfaction at the finished caterpillar and butterfly, and staged a mock fight between the two toys, vocalizing a few low growls and snarls for good measure.

"I knew we should have made dragons instead," Holt wisecracked.

The Dutch father tenderly patted his son's shoulder. "You can play back at the inn," he said. "We'll get the big pail and the windmill right now, and I can come back to get the others later on this afternoon."

Adam and Beatrice looked up at their parents, hoping to see a signal that they had approval to bring home a set. Lunch at a restaurant was much less appealing than these amazing toys - and they were feeling quite full from the cookies and cider, anyway. John and Irene could all but read their offspring's thoughts.

"Well played, Queen Elsa, well played," John said under his breath, and prepared to capitulate.

"Here," Anna suddenly broke in, and handed a large freeform pail to Adam and a box with the model of Arendelle castle to Beatrice. The top of the little girl's head could barely be seen over the box. "I did just about clobber you and scare you to death, so consider these a gift."

"Your Highness, it's not necess-" Irene started to object.

"I have it covered," Anna persevered. "I have an expense account, and even if I didn't, I have the inside track with the manufacturer."

Seeing their children's countenances light up with elation and gratitude was enough to convince the doctor and the midwife to accept the Princess' present ... especially since they had the sneaking suspicion that they would be back soon enough to buy the rest of the collection, and that the Snow Queen would debut new models every year.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Adam and Beatrice burbled.

"Now, we don't ever want to hear you two complain that you're bored and have nothing to play with," Irene cautioned.

"Of course not, mama!" Beatrice pledged.

"These are the best toys ever!" Adam opined. "I can't wait to build something!"

"And we also don't want you making a mess or being irresponsible with them, or fighting over them. Or neglecting your studies, physical playtime, and chores because of them," John commanded firmly. "Remember that we're having our friends over for supper tonight, and so you need to help get everything ready."

"Of course, papa!" Beatrice complied.

"We understand, sir!" Adam said with a smart nod.

The siblings exchanged excited, almost overwhelmed looks. They had been in Arendelle for not quite four days, and already their new home made Anglia seem monotonous, dingy, and inferior. Whatever anxieties they had about leaving their extended family, schoolmates, neighbors, and familiar places behind were quickly forgotten in the swirl of exhilarating experiences. It was like something out of a fairy tale, except it felt far more _real_ than their old, ordinary existence without exceptionally clean streets; castles that welcomed common people and harbored fugitive lizards; princesses who slid down banisters and sang and danced for the fun of it; reindeer who understood human language perfectly; living snowmen and snow-horses; medicine that tasted good; magical queens who broke steel chains and made toys and playground equipment and telescopes and superlative snow for snowball fights; and dinner parties with interesting people from far-off lands. Their minds could hardly keep up with it all, but they could not envision any other life right now.

"All right then!" Anna laughed. "Let's get you all checked out. It'll go quicker if we have multiple lines."

The Princess walked over to one of the cabinets and withdrew two ledger books and two receipt pads, and she and Stefanie sat down on one side of the table to help write up the customers' orders. Vollan and Holt bagged the goods or set them aside for forthcoming pick-up and ferried coins to and from the cash box while keeping a covert watch for shoplifting. Everyone who purchased at least five talers' worth of merchandise received a proportional store credit toward ice sculptures, which prolonged everything as people went back to choose their promotional freebies.

The Irishman was the last in Grimsen's line. He placed only the book on Arendelle's history and a small snowflake pendant on the desk. "You're getting off lightly," the captain joshed.

"Oh, I'm just starting small. I hope to get a bigger souvenir during the Harvest Festival," the Irishman smiled as he paid. "And I want to have enough left in my pocket to give our superb guide a little extra something, if she'll take it." He passed Stefanie a two taler tip.

"Thank you, sir," Stefanie said in surprise.

Numerous tourists, including all of the researchers, followed the Irishman's lead and bestowed the guide with monetary tokens of appreciation. Stefanie stared in astonishment as the bonus accumulated. Holt pumped his fist with comical intensity.

"Sco-o-ore!" Anna intoned musically.

"I really would give you a little extra something, too, Your Highness, but you princesses are a proud, fierce lot," the Irishman pronounced light-heartedly.

"Save it for the performers at the Harvest Festival," Anna urged as he and the other guests waved their farewells and funneled out the door. "I hope to see you all there!"

When the last tourist had finally departed, Vollan regarded the overflowing cash box on Grimsen's desk and the substantial pile of coins on the table in front of Stefanie. "Cha-ching!" he exclaimed.

"How come we guards never get tips?" Holt pouted facetiously.

"I would gladly explain why royal guards shouldn't take money from visitors, but I have to get ready for classes, so I'll leave that to Captain Grimsen," Stefanie riposted as she gathered her windfall.

"What about lunch?" Anna asked.

"I'll grab a quick bite at home. I really need to double-check a few assignments and review today's topics," Stefanie asserted as she walked back through the door that lead to the castle corridor. "Gentlemen, as always, thank you so much for your assistance. And thank you for tagging along, Your Highness."

"You'll ace everything, young lady," Grimsen encouraged.

"See you next Tuesday, sir," Stefanie called back over her shoulder as she disappeared from view.

Anna sighed. She sincerely admired her friend's self-discipline and industriousness. Going to school while working took a lot of dedication, and she often wondered how people managed it, but right now she felt inspired by Stefanie's studiousness. She too had some subject matter that she should brush up on, and then thoughts and questions that she should organize, before chatting with the Bishop. And the guards would probably want to have their lunch break and get things prepared for the one o'clock showing. And she wanted to ask Mr. Larsen, the gallery's curator, about the painting on the back of "The Haywain." And she needed to drop off some vendor invoices at Minister Nilsson's office. _And_ she needed to return Kristoff's sweater, now that she could put on a properly-fitting jacket.

"It looks like my work here is finished," Anna jested. "I'll get out of your hair now, and I promise not to crash any more tours."

"Please feel free to join us any time, Your Highness, as long as you don't literally crash a tour," Grimsen ribbed.

"Believe me, I will never slide down the railing during business hours again," Anna vowed and also walked back through the door that lead to the castle corridor. "Good day, guys, if I don't run into you again - figuratively speaking!"

"That was quite a ride," Holt said with genuine glee once the Princess was out of sight.

"And you got the bumpy part of it, Lieutenant. Are you sure you're all right?" Grimsen posed.

"Just fine, sir. Not a bruise or a scratch. I landed partially on Olaf's legs, so I had a little bit of a cushion," Vollan said.

"Well, if anything feels sore later on, Magnus, go see the doctor," Grimsen advised.

"Certainly, sir. Though all in all, it was kind of interesting to have a taste of the Her Highness' heyday," Vollan laughed.

"Fortunately, she weighed a lot less back then; it was much easier to withstand the impact," Grimsen admitted light-heartedly. "More seriously, gents, this morning's tour exposed a few flaws in our best practices. Let's take a few moments to discuss what we need to adjust."

"Yes, sir," Vollan and Holt said, and immediately sat down at their desks, readying their pens to log their commander's directives, so that they could disseminate the changes to the rest of the security personnel and castle staff.

"First off, as valiant as your attempt to get Olaf out of the way was, Lieutenant, it would be more prudent in the future not to worry about him in similar scenarios. We have to remember that he's an incredibly sturdy little fellow - it probably isn't an overstatement to say he's nigh invulnerable. He has easily survived having his head kicked off on several occasions, being thrown off a mountain, melted by a sauna, mauled by wolves, and flattened by that runaway sledge loaded with ice," Grimsen recounted. "And even if he were to come across something that could damage him, I feel certain that Her Majesty could fix him without any difficulty. And likewise, I feel certain that Her Majesty would be ... distressed if someone were to be needlessly injured for one of her snow-creature's sake. I know it runs counter to our instincts as protectors, but with magic in the mix, we have to know when to stand back."

Holt nodded slowly as he wrote. "So, it's just like the 'Don't come between Queen Elsa and potential trouble' rule," the sergeant concluded.

"Exactly. You've seen that as long as Her Majesty is conscious and thinking clearly, she can defend herself and others far better than we can. We probably have even less to worry about with Olaf and his snow-siblings because they don't have flesh or blood. Or bones. Focus on the ordinary people and animals first in dangerous situations, and let the magicals handle things their own way," Grimsen emphasized. "Which ties in with our second point: We need to put a 'Quiet, Please - Do Not Disturb' sign on Sleipnir's stall door."

"Totally agreed, sir," Vollan very quickly corroborated.

"Absolutely agreed, sir," Holt very quickly concurred.

"I don't think he's going to hurt anybody, mind you, but I also don't think goading him is particularly wise," Grimsen hedged. "The courtyard is more or less open access during the day, and unfortunately, as word of his existence gets around, the guests are going to want to see him, or at least ask about him, and the simple fact that he's not one of the tour exhibits will only add to the allure. Minister Haugen projects that almost twice as many tourists will come to Arendelle next summer. And _I_ project that some of those visitors are going to be a lot more presumptuous or injudicious, so the stablehands and courtyard guards will need to be extremely vigilant."

"We could just let Sleipnir kick the head off of the first person who trespasses in his stall, sir; it would be covered by the liability waiver, and I bet that it would get the message across," Holt said, tongue in cheek.

"Tempting, but no," Grimsen said dryly.

"We could ask Queen Elsa to move Sleipnir's accommodations somewhere more off the beaten path, sir," Vollan advocated.

"The problem with that is, he _does_ like Sven and Olaf, and they really do like him. And Her Majesty likes to check in on him at least once a day, and it's best if she can conveniently do so without using that ... teleportation technique," Grimsen pointed out. "I shudder to think what the clamor will be like once the general public knows he can ... materialize out of thin air."

"Sir, he almost always stays inside his stall when the tours stop at the stable, and no one has ever noticed or cared about it until today. I think that if Her Highness hadn't brought the carrots, and that Myrcian gentleman hadn't made the 'unicorn' comment, there wouldn't have been an issue," Holt posited. "Maybe all we need is a strict 'No Treats' policy for the stable stopover and a 'Quiet, Please' sign, and have Her Majesty explain the deal to Sleipnir."

"I suppose we can do that first," Grimsen acquiesced, "and try more extreme measures if it doesn't work."

"You would think the threat of being kicked into the middle of next week would be more than enough deterrent," Holt said drolly.

"Sergeant, the fact that some people lack common sense is what gives us job security," Grimsen smirked. "And that brings up my last point: We'll have to make sure all the guests are appropriately attired for the outdoor segment. I know hauling out and packing away all the foul weather gear is a nuisance, but we've entered the time of year when a sweater or light jacket is sufficient at dawn, yet an overcoat is needed by noon. I don't think we'll have that many more foreign tourists coming through until next spring, but Princess Anna won't be the last person who doesn't check the weather forecast before getting dressed."

"In Princess Anna's defense, sir, I don't think she planned on joining the tour this morning," Vollan upheld.

"Nonetheless, she did join us, and she walked outside unprepared for the temperature. I was remiss for letting her do that," Grimsen acknowledged. "I didn't want to put the tour further behind schedule, but that was the wrong priority. I should have told her either to put on a cloak before we left or stay inside. Yes, Her Highness also should have known better, but it _is_ our job to intervene when a castle resident or guest makes a misstep. Many of our visitors have no idea what to expect here, so we need to be on our toes even with something as commonplace as the weather."

Vollan bobbed his head. "We should evaluate them in the front foyer while we wait for the tour to start, sir, and maybe move at least some of the ponchos there so we can hand them out as needed at the beginning," he put forward.

"Can do," Grimsen consented. "All right, men, is there anything else you noticed or want to add?" Vollan rubbed his palm on the edge of his desk and shifted in his chair but remained silent; Grimsen smiled kindly. "You know that no one is truly angry about the lizard and crickets, Magnus."

"That's not it, sir," Vollan equivocated.

"You know that you have permission to speak freely," Grimsen prodded. "Because, as Mrs. Grimsen will testify, I'm not a mind reader."

"I think we need to work on our approach to the royal family's ancient genealogy if the guests ask about it," Vollan broached. "You were a little ... curt with the customer, sir. Surely, you understand that it's only natural for people to speculate when they hear the part about Snærr and Jökul and the others."

Grimsen stared at the overloaded cash box for a few moments. "That girl has called herself enough ugly names; she doesn't need the scientific community branding her inhuman, even if they try to whitewash it with 'superior' terms," he finally said softly.

Vollan and Holt were jarred by their commander's informal reference to the Queen and his intimation about her old life behind closed doors. They knew that Rune Grimsen had been one of King Agnarr's few confidants concerning his magical heir, and had sometimes even dandled their current sovereign upon his knee when she was a very young child, but he rarely let anecdotes or familiar forms of address slip when talking about the monarchs of Arendelle. The captain of the guard had obviously been privy to things that made him feel very strongly about nomenclature.

"Sir, perhaps we should remove Nórr's ski from the display case," Vollan politely suggested. "It would reduce the likelihood of the lineage coming up in conversation."

"Eh, the information is freely available to anyone who reads up on Arendelle's past, Lieutenant. It's mentioned in the history book that _everyone always_ buys in here. It's mentioned in the sagas and annals, ours and Thelir's and some of the older Norwegian and Icelandic ones. The skalds mentioned it in their poems. Maybe the laity wouldn't give it a second thought, but the diplomats and scholars like the Myrcian gentleman certainly will - and do," Grimsen grumbled. "We will just try to keep the conjecturing to a minimum during tours, and grit our teeth when the so-called learned experts churn out dissertations about which ancient magical race Her Majesty is descended from."

"That's what I like about you, sir: You always see the good in everybody and keep a positive outlook," Holt deadpanned after a few beats.

"Kid, I have been called 'Grim-Face' since I was five-years-old," the captain boasted with no pique. "Queen Elsa bade me to return to active duty precisely because I'm a distrustful sourpuss. Her Majesty's powers attract more than just honest, innocent folk with honest, innocent curiosity."

"Very true, sir ... but we should be aware of ... cultural differences, to some extent," Vollan delicately maintained. "By some society's standards, being equated with the old gods, giants, or nature spirits is a high compliment, sir." Grimsen gave no indication of being moved from his stance. "And some of the tourists have very different customs and come from very different backgrounds than we're used to, sir. Our Irish guest this morning may have rubbed you the wrong way, sir, but possibly it's normal to be that outgoing and casual in his country. Sir."

Grimsen snorted a laugh. "He played up the funny, gregarious Irishman stereotype a little too much. I was half surprised he didn't try to pick any pockets during the tour, but he'll probably be caught thieving in some way during the Harvest Festival," he predicted with a smug grin. "Or maybe even sooner. He knows at least the Myrcian gentleman and the Dutch family have more funds to draw on, and he got a good look at how full or empty a few other money pouches were."

"Are we going to alert the constables, sir?" Vollan asked, genuinely concerned.

"They've already increased their patrols, added plainclothes officers, and the innkeepers and merchants have been instructed to take precautions and be on the lookout. Chief Constable Johanssen is ahead of the game," Grimsen commended. "Which reminds me, Lieutenant: Her Majesty is going to have tea at the Visby embassy at four o'clock today, and you and I are cordially invited to come along with the other high-muck-a-mucks."

"How come I never get to watch the fireworks?" Holt whined facetiously.

"Because the language could get too rough for your young, untainted ears, Sergeant," Grimsen joked.

"Besides, you might have a better view from farther away," Vollan chimed in.

"Well, if Queen Elsa does anything really spectacular, you _have_ to tell me all about it, sirs," Holt demanded playfully.

"Of course, but most likely she'll only mete out some mind-numbing legalese," Grimsen bantered. "All right, boys, reset the toys for the next tour group, while I'll deposit this morning's revenue in the vault; then we'll break for lunch."

Vollan and Holt grinned and began partially disassembling the magical building brick sets, as Grimsen unlocked the side door. He carried the heavy cash box inside a strongroom that contained some weaponry, a safe that was obviously made by the Snow Queen, and several sheets of paper pinned to the wall. The captain set the till on top of the coffer and pulled out a key made of ice to unlock it ... and abrubtly apprehended why the Irishman had seemed so familiar.

 **Author's Notes - The part about just how many crocus flowers are needed to produce a kilogram of saffron is pretty much true - or at least something that you can read on the internet, which is just as good. I opted to make boreal saffron seemingly quite potent because most of our modern wonder drugs and even essential nutrients are effective in the milligram if not microgram range.**

 **The magical building bricks are, of course, a shout-out to Legos™. Elsa's ice is even more amazing than plastic, and while in this chapter it's used to affectionately razz Disney for squeezing the last cent out of parents the world over, they are more like a "Chekov's Gun." They will be important (and funny) later on in the story in various ways, especially the special "inventor's/engineer's" freeform set that Elsa gives to the Mandelbaums. Hint: Arendelle gets hydroelectric power! A few of my other "minor details" will also be important later on in the story.**

 **You will find that Grimsen is very much a family man, and views Elsa and especially Anna as almost his own daughters, since he spent so much time trying to keep or get little Anna out of trouble. Of course, the other guards have no idea how torn apart the royal family was when the gates were closed.**

 **A slight word of warning about my author's notes: While I never lie in them, I do engage in some "misdirection," just as the story will feature some misdirection for both the characters and you the readers. Very meta, I know, but such things are fashionable these days. But I am not misdirecting you when I say I will _not_ be doing shock value kill-offs or cheap-shot plot twists in the vein of "Game of Thrones/A Song of Fire and Ice." When characters die in "Force of Nature," it will be important to and logical/consistent with the plot. And while a conventional Disney happy ending is not in the cards, that does not mean the ending can't be unconventionally happy. Because this chapter has quite a bit of foreshadowing ("Nothing like a crisis to bring people together." - "Live and learn." - "It's never too late to have a happy childhood.") which hint at some uplifting moments.**

 **Because there is a lot of wiggle room in a de-powered/separated/dead ending. Some points and possibilities to ponder:**

 **Rapunzel was de-powered in "Tangled," and the ending was still happy; in fact, it was more believably happy than it ever could have been if she stayed powered, and people were constantly begging her to rejuvenate them, or constantly trying to kidnap her to force her to rejuvenate them. And while Elsa losing her powers as a result of a villainous scheme is certainly a downer, you might be "okay" with Elsa losing her powers because she understands that giving them up would Do Something Really, Really Important And Heroic, and she chooses to do so of her own free will. And then there's the possibility that there was a little mix-up at birth, and Elsa gives the ice-magic to its "rightful owner." There are a few other angles to a de-powered ending that aren't so unhappy, such as Elsa no longer has to worry about the "Woman of Absolute Zero (Or At Least Dry Ice), Significant Other of Mostly Water" effect or whether she would freeze her own baby to death while giving birth.**

 **Likewise with separated. Because there's being able to come visit her family/friends whenever she wants, a la "Frozen II." And, while it has a tinge of sadness, there's being separated because her family/friends have naturally passed on while she remains; a number of fanfics have already gone in this direction, even _long_ before the sequel. I will tease that some of my characters will wonder if Elsa could "preserve" living organisms as easily as she "preserves" Olaf's carrot nose and Duffin's shortbread, which opens up the possibility that Elsa might not be _alone_ even if she turns out to be immortal-ish.**

 **And there's C.S. Lewis' "The Last Battle" kind of dead: "Come further up, come further in!" Which would be especially uplifting because my version of Elsa is a smidgen worried about the whole soul and afterlife thing. And there's the possibility that Elsa's human form is only her larval stage; the caterpillar must die before the butterfly can take shape. Or there's the "become one with the Force" Jedi death, or a transcendental illumination which merely leaves the old physical body behind. Death need not be dark or a sundering.**

 **I'm not saying that _any_ of the above options will happen in "Force of Nature," just pointing out that there _are_ plot developments that might seem initially/superficially gloomy, but they give you that "Anna made the right choice!" excitement and happiness before too long. Trust me, I'm not going to peck out an octillion words just to figuratively punch you in the gut. I myself always prefer positive endings. But there should be some tension, some _credible_ doubt that they all don't live happily ever after, some element that makes you feel engaged, that there's "something at stake," otherwise you'll get bored and stop reading.**


End file.
